Backlash
by Aedemiel
Summary: A serial killer is trailing Phoenix Wright, killing off his former clients and threatening his life and that of his friends.
1. Chapter 1

Phoenix tapped awkwardly at the door to his friend's office. The message scribbled by Apollo on a scrap of paper had simply said that Miles needed to see him as soon as possible.

"Come in," a voice said tiredly. He pushed open the door. Miles was lounging on the couch, his jacket off and his shirt sleeves rolled up. Phoenix stared at him, it was rare to see Miles so… disheveled. That thought led to dangerous places, so he tamped his thoughts down and pasted a neutral expression on his face.

"Wright," Miles said, his entire body wired with tension. Phoenix gulped. Had he done something to piss Miles off?

"Hey, Miles. Apollo said you needed to see me?" he said nervously. Miles looked at him over the top of his glasses, and Phoenix had to suppress a shiver.

"Yes. Stop hovering and sit down, Wright." Miles commanded. Phoenix obeyed. "I have a rather delicate situation here that we need to discuss."

"OK," Phoenix said. He looked down, his anxiety now wound too tight to look Miles in the eye.

"I'm sorry, Wright, more sorry than I can say. But Iris Hawthorne is dead." Phoenix choked.

"Iris is dead?" he managed. Miles' face softened.

"Yes. Just this morning. I'm sorry, Wright." Phoenix turned his head away, determined not to cry in front of Miles. He breathed in and out, regaining control. "What happened?"

"She died after being stabbed by a fellow prisoner, using a replica of Mystic Ami's sword." Miules told him.

"I don't… uh.. What?" Phoenix stuttered. "How did this happen?"

"We think we have a serial killer on our hands," Miles said without preamble. Phoenix looked up, astonished.

"What?"

"A serial killer. One that has now killed three of your former clients." Phoenix stared at Miles in horror.

"Oh my God," he whispered. Miles nodded gravely.

"Yes, it's a grim business. All of these are cases from your early career. We're not sure yet if it's a coincidence or whether the killer is targeting cases you defended specifically. They're all also cases where I was either the prosecutor or heavily involved in the case, so it's also possible that the killer is targeting cases where I failed to secure a prosecution, rather than cases that you won per se. But you have a more prolific win record against me than any other defense attorney."

"You must have more than that, to call me in like this," Phoenix said faintly.

"Of course. Each death is related to the court case they were involved in. Will Powers was killed by a man in a Steel Samurai costume. Max Galactica was fatally injured by a falling sign advertising his show at the circus. And, now, Iris."

"You weren't the prosecutor in the Hazakuna temple case.," he objected.

"No, that's true. But you dragged me into that case to fill in for you after you carelessly fell off a burning bridge." Miles reminded him. Phoenix reddened.

"So, you think my clients are being targeted? Why?" Miles ran a hand through his hair.

"We don't know why. All we know is what I've told you." Phoenix nodded and thought for a moment.

"Do you have any idea who might be targeted next?" Miles shook his head.

"None. That's why I called you here. We need a list of all of your clients contact information. I figured you probably keep in touch with most of them." Miles gave him a smile that Phoenix couldn't quite interpret.

"Yeah, Athena keeps a database of all our clients, past and present. Do you think they're in danger? Or Trucy?"

"I don't know, Wright," Miles said, frustration evident in his voice. "All I know is, the only connection between the three victims is the manner of their death and their connection to you."

"And you," Phoenix reminded him. Miles nodded.

"Yes, of course. But I'm at best tangential to at least two of them." He eyed Phoenix for a moment. "How good is the security at your apartment?"

"We have a houseplant with a mean streak," Phoenix quipped. Miles gave him a stern look.

"I'm going to assign a security detail. I want you and Trucy safe. What about Athena and Apollo?"

"Apollo has an apartment in the same block as me. Athena… Well, technically she has a place in midtown, but honestly I think she spends most nights at Simon's." Miles raised one eyebrow and Phoenix grinned. "Don't tell me you didn't know."

"I won't," Miles agreed. "I didn't know that you knew." Phoenix blinked at him.

"Why would you think that?"

"Simon made a big deal of swearing me to secrecy. I assumed they were hiding their relationship from you." Miles looked uncomfortable. "I told him I wasn't willing to lie about it if you asked, but I wouldn't bring it up."

"It's OK, Miles. I don't hold it against you." Phoenix nudged him with his shoulder. "I'm harder to offend than that, after all I've known you a long time." Miles stiffened and Phoenix laughed.

"Relax, Miles. I'm just yanking your chain. OK, if Athena's with Simon, I imagine she's as safe as she can be. If you're sending a security detail to my apartment, I guess covering Apollo's place as well shouldn't be too hard."

"Yes."

"What about Maya, do you think she could be a target too?" Phoenix asked suddenly. Miles gave a frown.

"I would think so. I've already reached out to her and I'm doing all I can to make sure she's safe." He gave a lopsided smile. "Although I pity the criminal who tries to take her on." Phoenix laughed at that. "Thank you, Wright," Miles looked down at his hands.

"For what?" Phoenix asked, confused.

"For taking this seriously. If something happened to you…" Miles shook his head. Phoenix patted him awkwardly on the shoulder and ignored the stab of pain as Miles flinched away from the physical contact.

"OK, well. I've got court in about an hour. Do you want to… grab some lunch or something?" Miles shook his head, but seemed genuinely regretful.

"I'm sorry, Wright, but I can't. I've got to get the security arranged and I need to talk to Simon about protection." He looked up briefly, meeting Phoenix's eye before looking away. "I'll be in touch."

Phoenix stood and rubbed the back of his neck. "OK, Miles. I'll talk to you later." He moved to the door, intending to leave.

"Wright." Miles said. Phoenix turned to look at him. He looked terrible. "Take care." Phoenix nodded.

"Don't worry, Miles. I'll be careful. And anyway, I'm indestructible. You know that."

* * *

There was a sharp knock and his door and Miles frowned. He wasn't expecting Simon for at least another hour, and Phoe- Wright would be in court now.

"Come in," he said. The door opened and Winston Payne poked his head in.

"Edgeworth," he said in his nasal whine. "What's this nonsense I hear about a serial killer." Miles' eyes opened in alarm.

"Where did you hear that?" he demanded and Payne flinched.

"It's all over the news," he said defensively. "Everyone's talking about it."

"Damn it," Miles cursed. "I was hoping to keep this under wraps. Who talked to the press?" Payne shrugged.

"No idea. It's true, then?" Miles nodded tiredly. Payne rubbed his hands together in apparent glee. "Well, I am of course available to direct the investigation, I just closed the Second Avenue Robbery this morning." Miles raised one eyebrow at him.

"That was fast," he observed. Payne preened, clearly thinking this was a compliment.

"It was a complex case. But for an experienced prosecutor such as myself…" Miles waved a hand at him.

"Yes, yes. I'm directing the serial killer case personally right now, but I will let you know if I need your assistance."

"But surely-" he started and Miles leveled a look at him and he backed off. "It's your decision, of course. I merely wished to take some of your heavy workload off your desk." He nodded at Miles and left the room. Miles slumped against the sofa cushions in relief. He did need help on this case, but he didn't trust Payne to have Wright' best interests at heart. He needed someone he could trust who would also be personally invested in the case. A small smile spread over his face as a thought occurred to him. He stood up and buzzed his secretary to arrange a meeting.

* * *

By the time Phoenix got back to his office, there was already a private security guard standing outside the door. He was tall and square, with a buzzcut and a rigid demeanor. He nodded to Phoenix and stepped aside. Phoenix stopped and held out his hand.

"Phoenix Wright. You're the security Miles hired?"

"Yeah. Edgar Gregory, Sentinel Security." He shook Phoenix's hand, crushing it slightly. "Mr Edgeworth was most insistent that you have at least one guard at all times." Phoenix gave him a crooked smile.

"OK. Uh, thanks." Edgar opened the door and Phoenix stumbled inside. "Nice to meet you." There was no reply. Edgar was apparently not a chatty guy.

Athena and Apollo were staring at Athena's computer screen. When Phoenix entered they started guiltily. He gave them both a hard stare.

"What are you two up to?" he asked.

"Eeep! Close everything down!" Widget chirped. Athena went purple and Phoenix cocked a brow at her.

"We were just reviewing some old cases of yours," Apollo said, looking sheepish. "You know, since Mr Edgeworth sent a bodyguard."

"OK," Phoenix said slowly. "I don't see why that is so embarrassing." Apollo's cheeks colored.

"Well, we kinda got sidetracked," he admitted. Athena glared at him. Phoenix shrugged, unconcerned.

"Everyone falls down the rabbit hole of the internet from time to time. Don't worry about it, as long as you didn't end up on any porn sites or-" he broke off when Apollo choked. "Oh God. What did you do?"

"It's not my fault," Apollo defended. "I told her not to click on it."

"How could you not click on that!" Athena yelled. Phoenix covered his face with his hands.

"If you two have done something illegal…" Apollo and Athena both yelped.

"No!" they chorused. Phoenix dropped his hands and narrowed his eyes at them.

"So what was it?" He stalked forward and Athena began clicking frantically. "Athena!" She gulped and sat back.

"Just some rumors that went around, back in the day. You were pretty famous and so was Mr Edgeworth, so you know, people talk. Nonsense, of course. We didn't believe any of it. But you know, it was there and we were… curious." She shut her mouth suddenly. Phoenix sighed.

"So you read some of those moronic articles they used to write about the great rivalry between us? How we were sworn enemies, blah blah blah? Really, Athena?"

"Uh. No. Not those rumors. The other ones." Apollo said quietly.

"Other ones?" Phoenix said, genuinely baffled.

"About you and Mr Edgeworth's… friendship." Athena replied.

"We _are_ friends. We've been friends a long time," Phoenix said impatiently. "It's not a secret."

"Well, there were some reporters who insinuated that maybe it was more than that." Athena told him. He tugged at his hair in frustration.

"They thought you were in bed together," Apollo said. Phoenix gaped at him.

"They thought we were in cahoots, to let me win cases? Are you insane? Have you reviewed the court records from our cases together? Miles Edgeworth would no more let me win than he would break into a song and dance routine in court."

"I'd pay money to see that!" Widget chirped. It broke the tension that was beginning to build and they all laughed.

"No, no," Apollo said, making a quelling gesture. "They meant literally in bed together." Phoenix's face went totally blank and Apollo suddenly felt like he'd stepped on a landmine.

"I see," the attorney said icily. His gaze flicked between them and Athena dropped her gaze, she couldn't bear to look at him. Apollo bit his lip.

"I'm sorry," he said contritely. "It was just some stupid journalist with an ax to grind. Attacking your integrity because it's an easy way to hurt you. We know it's all lies." Phoenix stared at him for a moment, then turned on his heel and stalked out of the office.

Athena looked at Apollo. "Uh, what just happened?" she said in confusion. Apollo regarded her steadily, his mind whirling.

"I don't know," he admitted. "That was… weird." His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out and then made a face. Athena leaned closer, trying to read the screen and he stepped back.

"Hey!" he complained. She pouted at him. "It's just a message from Prosecutor Gavin. I have to meet with him about the Silver Diner Murders."

"Do you need help with it?" she asked, her face curious. He shook his head.  
"Not really. I mean, don't you have a client of your own? I thought you were meeting him at the detention center this afternoon." Her face was pensive and Apollo peered at her. "What's wrong, Athena?" She sighed and her shoulders slumped.

"I'm not sure… I mean, I don't-" she broke off and Apollo felt a stirring of concern. "I'm not sure he didn't do it, Apollo." She shook her head, her ponytail bouncing with the movement. "Simon says he thinks the guy was framed. And I trust his instincts, I do. But there's just something… off about this guy. He creeps me out." Apollo gave her a sympathetic smile.

"That happens sometimes," he said. "Even if your client isn't guilty of the crime they're accused of, that doesn't mean they're automatically good people. Working for Kristoph Gavin, some of my clients were kinda shady. Not anything I could put a finger on, they just gave me a bad feeling." He ran a hand through his hair, making the spikes all crooked. "Look, if the guy makes you uncomfortable, why don't I come with you. Reschedule your meeting with him for later and I'll meet you there once I've met with Prosecutor Gavin." Athena smiled gratefully at him.

"OK, thanks Apollo."

* * *

Klavier Gavin sauntered into Miles' office without knocking. Miles suppressed his irritation, Gavin was a great prosecutor. He just wished he had a little more humility. Like you? His brain sneered helpfully.

"Herr Edgeworth, you asked to see me, ja?" Gavin said. He leaned one hip against Miles' desk and twirled a finger through his hair.

"Yes, Gavin. A rather difficult case has come across my desk, and I want you and Blackquill to work together with the police to bring this to a close as quickly as possible." Gavin gave a lazy smile.

"Sure," he drawled. "What's the case?"

"Are you familiar with Iris Hawthorne?" Miles asked and Gavin looked thoughtful.

"Wasn't that one of your cases with Phoenix Wright," he mused. "I remember. She had a twin sister who was some kind of hexe, ja?"

"A witch? Yes, I suppose that's one way of putting it," Miles agreed. "Well, she was killed this morning by a fellow prisoner. Using a sword which was a replica of a sacred sword that was a major piece of evidence in the case." Gavin straightened.

"A sword, in prison!" he exclaimed. "How on earth did a sword get smuggled into a high security facility like that?" Miles wiped a hand across his face.

"Indeed. There have been two other murders, Will Powers and Max Galactica. Both were clients of Wright's back in the day. And then there's your current case." Gavin raised his perfectly groomed eyebrows.

"The Silver Diner Murders? How are they related?" he said in a surprised voice. Miles' face twisted.

"One of the victims, the one you couldn't identify? I just got off the phone with the US Marshals office. Her name is Angel Starr." Gavin frowned, trying to recall the name. "She was a material witness in the Bruce Goodman case."

"Ah, yes. Forgive me, Herr Edgeworth, that was before I joined the prosecutor's office here." he blinked. "US Marshals?"

"She was in witness protection. She was supposed to be living in Boston and staying off the radar. Apparently a number of Joe Darke groupies had made some threats against her and Jake Marshall after the events of the Goodman case."  
"So why was she back here?" Gavin said. "And where is Jake Marshall now?"

"I don't know the answer to either of those questions," Miles said. "Jake dropped out of sight about six weeks ago. He'd been living in Tucson, Arizona, but he hasn't been to his apartment, or used his credit cards or made contact with his handler. Nothing."

"That is not good news," Gavin observed. "Is there any chance the other Silver Diner victims are connected to Wright in some way?" Miles made a helpless gesture.

"Not that I can see, but I'm not omniscient. By all means dig around. We're not quite treating these two cases as connected yet, not least because you actually have a suspect in the Silver Diner case, so it could just be a horrible coincidence." Gavin nodded slowly, more in thought than agreement.

"I will do what I can," he promised. He looked uncertain. "I'm working with Herr Forehead on the Silver Diner case. Do you think that's wise if there's a connection?" Miles gave him a curious look.

"Herr Forehead? Oh, your nickname for Mr Justice. I'll leave that up to you, Gavin. For now at least. Let's see how it all develops."

* * *

Ema Skye munched thoughtfully on a Snackoo as she turned the evidence bag over and over in her hands. The knife inside was supposed to be the murder weapon recovered from the Silver Diner. But it didn't make any sense. This blade was a hunting knife, sharp and good-quality, sure. But the precision of the cuts on the victims' bodies just didn't match.

"You look troubled, Fraulein," a sultry voice observed. She looked up with a glare.

"Fop," she said tightly. "What do you want?"

"Peace, Detective," Gavin said easily, but there was a tightness around his eyes. Something was worrying the prosecutor and Ema felt a twinge of sympathy that she quickly suppressed.

"It's this knife," she said quickly. "This is the knife we recovered from the diner. It's got the blood of all three victims on it, there are partial fingerprints that match the waitress and the short-order cook, which makes sense based on the waitress's statement that she wrestled with him when he attacked her."

"So what is the problem, Fraulein?" Gavin asked, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. It never did to underestimate the man's intelligence, Ema thoought.

"The cuts on the victims bodies," she explained. She pushed some photos from the autopsy file towards him. "Look at them, they're almost surgical. The ME agrees, he says in the report that the murder weapon is most likely an old-fashioned scapel or similar. Look at the edges here, in this enlarged picture. See how little the skin is torn? This blade was very sharp and the shape of the edge makes this very fine cut. Now look at this knife. It's a sharp knife, sure, but it's a thick blade and the shape of the edge could not make these fine slices. It's impossible. I'm sorry, Gavin, but I think this knife was a plant. A red herring." Gavin frowned at her and shifted his weight.

"Ja. You're right, Fraulein. There's no way this blade is the murder weapon. It's a fake." He looked disturbed. "I do not understand how this could happen. The waitress positively identified it as the knife the cook held."

"I think you better go talk to her again," Ema said sourly. "Either she's confused, or she's a liar. Neither of which make her a good witness." Gavin nodded in agreement.

"Danke, Ema. Make sure Herr Forehead gets this report as well, will you?" Ema looked surprised.

"You're just going to give this to him?" she asked. Gavin snarled at her.

"Unlike some people, I actually have integrity," he said angrily and Ema rocked back in her chair. "Apollo has a right to see this as the defence attorney on this case and I have no right to keep it from him. I do not need to cheat in order to prove my case."

"I'm sorry," Ema said in a small voice. "I wasn't trying to imply anything. I've been working with Prosecutor Payne and he… got quite angry with me for sharing my reports with the defence."

"Quite," Gavin said. "If you think me no better than the Payne's of this world, we really have nothing more to say."

"No!" Ema cried. "I just… I'm sorry. It's been a hard week. I shouldn't have taken it out on you." Gavin blinked.

"Nein, Fraulein. It's OK. I overreacted." he peered at her. "Are you OK?" She nodded, blinking rapidly as though to hold back tears. "You may not like me very much, but I am a good listener. If you wanted to talk." She shook her head.

"I'm fine. Really. Go on, now. I've got a lot of work to do." Gavin considered pushing a little harder, but he wasn't sure she would be receptive to it right now. He filed it away in his mind and patted her shoulder.

"I'll see you later," he told her and sauntered out.

* * *

When Apollo arrived at the coffee shop where he'd agreed to meet Prosecutor Gavin, he was surprised to see the rockstar already there, staring pensively out of the window. He ordered a latte and walked over to Gavin's booth, dropping down into the seat opposite. Gavin turned to him and gave him such a warm smile, Apollo's breath caught in his throat.

"Forehead," Gavin said smoothly. "It's good to see you."

"Uh, yeah," Apollo stuttered. "I uh. Hi. How are you?" He sounded like an idiot. The blond gave an artless shrug.

"Ja, I am well. Although this case took a disturbing turn today." Apollo's bracelet tightened on his wrist and he raised his eyebrows at the prosecutor. He didn't think he was lying, this was something else.

"OK," he said slowly. "Shoot." Gavin sighed, a heavy sound that didn't belong to him.

"So the unidentified victim in this case, we finally got a hit." He paused and Apollo peered at him. Gavin was visibly upset and that was such a rarity that the young attorney began to feel really alarmed. He opened his mouth to speak when Gavin blurted out, "Angel Starr."

Apollo blinked. The name meant nothing to him.

"Ach, schatzi, I see you don't recognize the name," he said sadly. Apollo shook his head. "She was a material witness in the Bruce Goodman murder." Apollo frowned.

"Bruce Goodman… Wait, that's one of Mr Wright's cases."

"Indeed," Gavin said solemnly. He watched Apollo's expressive face as a number of thoughts raced through the bright young attorney's mind.

"But, does that mean it's related to the serial killer?" he hissed. "How does it fit?"

"It doesn't," Gavin said tiredly. "Starr wasn't a suspect and the method of killing her only superficially ties to the Goodman case, in that she was killed with a knife. I don't know, schatzi."

"Could it just be a horrible coincidence?" Apollo asked tentatively, watching the tension on Gavin's face.

"Perhaps, Forehead. But it's a strange one. She was in the federal witness protection program, and living in Boston under an assumed name. What was she doing here in LA, and why?" He reached out and grasped Apollo's hand and the young attorney jerked in surprise. "It gives me a bad feeling, Apollo," the blond said urgently. "I'm worried about you." Apollo stared at him, unease curling in his gut. Gavin never used his first name, nor did he touch him unexpectedly like this. Gavin's hands were cool and he was rubbing his fingers across Apollo's knuckles in an absent fashion that sent little sparks of sensation along the attorney's nerve endings. He yanked his hand away suddenly, uncomfortable.

"I uh… "

"There's more," Gavin interrupted. "I spoke with Ema before I came down here to meet you. She says the knife we collected at the scene is not the murder weapon." Apollo's mouth dropped open.

"What? But the witness, the waitress said she saw my client use that knife. The physical evidence that connects him to the murders is that his fingerprints are on the murder weapon. And now you're saying, it's not the murder weapon."

"Nein. It's impossible. Ema's sending you a copy of the report, but essentially the cuts are too precise and too thin to have been made by that blade. It's hard to credit, I agree."

"You're letting Ema send me the updated report on the weapon?" Apollo said incredulously. Gavin looked as though he'd slapped him.

"Ja, of course!" he snapped. "It's the law. Why is everyone so intent on questioning my ethics today?" Apollo made a quelling gesture.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. My last case was with a different prosecutor and he… held some things back in order to present them in court and throw off my defense." Gavin threw up his hands dramatically.

"So I hear." the prosecutor said tightly. "I do not see why I should be tarred with the same brush."

"No, you're right. I'm really sorry." Apollo said soothingly. He reached out to grab Gavin's hand and was stung when Gavin leaned back and withdrew his hands from Apollo's reach. "Gavin, I…"

"Must you, Forehead," the blond said bitterly. "Must you use Gavin, like you called my brother? Can't you call me Klavier instead?"

"Uh, sure," Apollo said uncertainly. "If you call me Apollo, rather than Forehead." A sly smile curled the edges of Ga- Klavier's mouth.

"But I like my nickname for you," he objected. Apollo sighed.

"All right, Klavier," he agreed. "If it makes you happy." The rockstar grinned at him, full force, and Apollo felt a little breathless.

"Schatzi, you are a wonderment. Here I was feeling downtrodden over this awful case and you have made me smile. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be so sensitive. But with everything that's happened…" Apollo nodded sympathetically.

"So, other than the two updates, which clearly happened today, why did you want to meet?" he asked, hoping to get this meeting back on track and away from shark-infested waters.

"Ja, you're right. I have the permission you need to interview the waitress, Brandi Snapps, and I thought perhaps we could take another look at the crime scene together, now they've cleared out the bodies and the CSI's are finished with their investigation." Apollo looked at him gratefully.

"I'd love to go back, but I promised Athena I'd go with her to interview her new client. He's got her spooked somehow and I don't want her going on her own. Maybe tomorrow?" He got another blinding smile.

"Such a big heart you have, Forehead," Klavier said affectionately. "Of course you must go with Ms Cykes. Meet me tomorrow at the crime scene, 10am?"

"Perfect," Apollo said. He checked his watch. "I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow." He got up and left. Klavier watched him go with a smile on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

Athena was chewing on a fingernail when Apollo arrived at the detention center. He patted her awkwardly on the shoulder.

"Are you sure you want to do this," he asked. "If you're not sure this guy is innocent, you don't have to take his case."

"I don't know. But Simon was insistent." Apollo gave her an irritated look.

"You don't work for Simon. You work for Mr Wright. And he always says, only take on clients you feel good about."

"I know. But Simon is… well… you know how he is."

"Yes," Apollo said ruefully. "All too well. All right, let's get this over me the outline of the case."

"Julian St John, he's a dual British-US citizen. Been living in LA for fifteen years. No priors. He is accused of killing Maria Sangre, his cleaner. It's pretty graphic. She was attacked when she arrived for work on Friday, tortured for hours before her killer finally slit her throat."

"Seems rather stupid, attacking and killing her in his own home."

"He has an alibi, a cast-iron one. He was the other side of town, having dinner with some business associates. There are over a dozen other witnesses in the restaurant who saw him there." Apollo frowned.

"OK, so if his alibi is so good, how come he was charged at all?"

"Simon says they think he hired someone to do the job."

The man sat behind the glass was tall and thin, with long silver-gray hair held in a leather thong. He had elegant, patrician features and a condescending manner. Apollo was reminded uncomfortably of Kristoph Gavin.

"I see you brought a little friend along," he said in a cultured British accent. He looked down his nose at Apollo. "Or perhaps it is a pet." Apollo bristled but Athena's hand on his arm stopped him from snarking back.

"This is Mr Justice, from my office. I asked him in for a second opinion," Athena said coolly.

"I see. So unsure of yourself? That does not bode well for my defence." the man said distantly.

"Apollo, let me introduce Julian St John, from Buckinghamshire." Athena said. "That's in England," she clarified. Apollo resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her.

"Nice to meet you," he lied. "Now, tell me what happened."

"I'm sure I have no idea," Julian said smoothly. "I went out to dinner with some associates of mine, at Chez Michel." Apollo blinked, that was a very expensive restaurant with a six month waiting list. "My colleagues can all vouch for me, as can the waitstaff and more than fifteen other diners."

"Yes, so I understand," Apollo said, trying to match the man's cool tone. His bracelet had not reacted to anything Julian had said, so presumably he was telling the truth. "Athena tells me that the police think you hired someone to torture and kill Ms Sangre."

"Yes. Why I would do such a terrible thing, nobody seems to know. Maria had worked for me for many years. I wouldn't say we were close or anything like that, but she was diligent and honest. Do you have any idea how much work it will be to find another maid so reliable?"

"Not really," Athena admitted. "The information I got from Detective Skye is that the killing bore all the hallmarks of a known hitman, a guy known as The Blade."

"Classy," Apollo muttered under his breath.

"That's as maybe," Julian said. "But I certainly don't know people like that."

"So what do the police have that makes them think Mr St John hired this hitman?" Apollo asked Athena. She pulled a face.

"It's pretty thin. There's a series of payments from Mr St John's checking account to an numbered bank account in the Cayman Islands. There is an freemail account that was setup last week, jstjohn. This account was used to email another freemail account, wqvastov, which is believed to be one of the Blade's accounts. They detail the requirements for the crime in detail. Including details that were not released to the press."

"That doesn't mean that Mr St John was the one to set up the email address," Apollo objected. "In fact, he'd have to be pretty stupid to use his own name." Julian looked pleased.

"A point I made to Detective Skye several times," he agreed. "I've been framed."

"What about the payments?" Apollo pressed. St John gave an elegant shrug.

"I won't deny that I made them. They're private business, nothing to do with this affair." Apollo and Athena both sighed.

"Private business or not," Athena insisted. "It looks suspicious." Julian examined his fingernails for a moment.  
"The account belongs to a very close personal friend," Julian said tightly. "She has been having some financial difficulties recently and I've been helping her out."

"Through a numbered bank account in the Caribbean. One that's notorious for money laundering and tax evasion?" Apollo said incredulously. "Who is she?"

"I can't tell you that," Julian snapped. "She's quite well-known and if scandal were attached to her name, it would be quite intolerable."

"We won't reveal her name unless we think it absolutely necessary to prove your innocence." Apollo assured him but Julian shook his head.

"No, that's not good enough. If you really think it's relevant, I'll tell you," he said. "Suffice to say that she's a close personal friend, that she's married, famous and has had some money worries. That's all you need to know."

Apollo's bracelet tightened on his wrist in reaction to St John's tension. He squinted at the man. He had a good idea who the mystery woman was. "I could guess the name," he blurted out. Julian sneered at him.

"I won't confirm or deny any name you mention," he said in clipped tones.

"Cassandra Silverstein," Apollo said. Julian ignored him but the bracelet tightened painfully on his wrist. He observed him closely and noticed a tiny twitch under one eye. "Gotcha!" he yelled triumphantly. Athena elbowed him in the ribs.

"We're not in court, Apollo," she hissed. Julian was white with fury, his nostrils flaring and his mouth pursed.

"How dare you," he exclaimed. "Just who do you think you are!"

"Your defence team," Apollo said calmly. "Ms Silverstein has been all over the news recently. Her most recent movie was a total flop at the box office, there are rumors that her husband is gay and their marriage is a sham, and there are yet more rumors that she has a drug problem."

"You're describing half the starlets in Hollywood," St John said dismissively.

"OK," Apollo said. "Let's go." Athena looked up at him startled.

"Uh, sure. Mr St John, we'll be in touch."

Athena had to scurry to keep up with Apollo as he strode out of the detention center. "Hey," she called. "Wait up!" Apollo spun around, his face cold.

"Ditch him, Athena," he said icily.

"Really?" she replied. "You think he's guilty?"

"I don't know for sure but I think so," Apollo admitted. "This case gives me the creeps. Something's really off here, I just can't put my finger on what."

"How did you know about Cassandra Silverstein," Athena asked him. Apollo struggled to contain his expression.

"She's supposed to be having an affair with Kl- Prosecutor Gavin," he informed her. She gaped at him.

"Is it true?" Apollo gave a helpless gesture.

"No idea. But there were several lurid pictures of her sprawled all over him at the Grammy's last month." Athena narrowed her eyes at him. Why was Apollo so upset about this?

"I seem to remember something like that," she said. "Are you saying you think she's sleeping with St John as well."

"I think he pretty much insinuated as much," Apollo said roughly. Athena looked troubled.

"OK, let's say that's true. I don't understand why that means I should drop him as a client."

"He's guilty," Apollo insisted. "And I think he's a more impressive liar than Kristoph Gavin and that's saying something." Athena tugged at her ponytail unhappily.

"Simon's not going to be happy if I back out now," she said. Apollo raked a hand through his hair.

"But didn't you _want_ to drop this guy? Isn't that why you invited me along?"

"Yeah," Athena agreed. "But on paper at least the prosecution's case is not exactly watertight."

"That doesn't make him innocent," Apollo said, folding his arms.

"No. But it doesn't matter what I or Simon think we know. It only matters what we can prove." Athena said defensively.

"Have you been watching A Few Good Men again?" Apollo asked witheringly. Athena pouted.

"Yes. But it's true. What's the matter Apollo? You've been on edge all afternoon." Apollo sighed heavily.

"I'm sorry, Athena. It's this Silver Diner case. Come on, I'll buy you dinner and tell you all about it." She bit her lip.

"I'm supposed to be having dinner with Simon tonight," she said uncertainly.

"Invite him along," Apollo suggested. "I'd appreciate his insight actually."

* * *

Phoenix shoved the remains of his burrito away, mostly untouched. Athena had texted to say they were going to dinner and he was welcome to join them, but he suspected they'd be talking about this wretched serial killer and he just couldn't face it. He picked up his phone for the hundredth time and scrolled down to Miles' name. His finger hovered over the call button. Then with a sigh he pressed it.

"Edgeworth," Miles answered.

"Uh, hey. Miles. Uh. Hi."

"Wright? Eloquent as usual I see," Miles said drily, but there was affection there. Phoenix swallowed.

"Yeah. Sorry. Um. I… Look I'm sorry. I don't know why I called. I guess I'm more disturbed by… by what you told me this afternoon than I thought." There was silence on the other end of the phone. "Uh. Never mind. I'm sorry I disturbed you. Good night, Miles."

"Wait," Miles said suddenly.

"OK."

"Where are you?"

"My office," Phoenix admitted. "Trying to work. Failing, mostly."

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Stay put." Miles ordered. He hung up. Phoenix stared at the phone in surprise.

True to his word, a quarter hour later there was a murmuring as Miles conversed with Edgar and then a light tap at the door.

"It's open," Phoenix called out. Miles came in, looking even more disheveled than he had earlier in the evening. He strode purposefully into the room, grabbed Phoenix by the arm and herded him out into the hall.

"Edgar, go collect Miss Trucy and bring her to my apartment," Miles ordered. The man nodded and marched off. "Come on, Wright. I'm taking you home."

"To your apartment," Phoenix said faintly.

"What? Yes, yes." Miles replied testily. "I'll be much happier if you're somewhere with decent security." He pushed Phoenix towards the stairs and out of the building. Phoenix looked around, the neighborhood was unusually quiet tonight. Over by the park he saw a flash and one look at Miles' face told him he'd seen it too.

"Get down!" Miles said urgently and shoved Phoenix to the ground behind his car, half landing on top of him as the sharp retort of a pistol echoed in the air. He pulled out his phone and dialled 911.

"This is Miles Edgeworth, of the prosecutor's office. I'm on Turnabout Avenue and People Street. Shots fired. Send a squad car as quick as you can," Miles said in a low voice into the phone. He listened for a moment. "Yes, I've got Phoenix Wright with me. He's fine. Now hurry." More gunshots fired as he spoke and a shard of brick sheared off the building and sliced into Phoenix's cheek. He yelped and Miles clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Quiet, Wright," he hissed. Phoenix shoved him away, frowning. The high wail of several police cars sounded in the distance. Miles poked his head above the hood of his car and then ducked back down. "I think he's gone. But we need to stay here until the police arrive." Phoenix nodded, holding his face which was starting to bleed profusely. Miles stared at it for a moment, then wordlessly produced a monogrammed handkerchief and pressed it to the cut.

The police arrived moments later. The car that screeched in front of them spilled out Ema Skye and a new recruit Phoenix had met but couldn't remember her name. Ema said something to her and then pulled her weapon and dashed over to the park. The police officer was a tall African American woman with a strange scar over her left eyebrow.

"Hey," she said by way of a greeting. "I'm Alice Plige. Nice to meet you." Miles raised one eyebrow at her and she grinned. "I'm new, sorry. I meant to say I'm Officer Plige. Are either of you hurt?" Phoenix raised his hand and her eyes widened at the blood on his face. She leaned in and examined the cut and made a clicking sound with her tongue.

"Ouch," she commented. "Lucky you, it's relatively shallow. A couple of steristrips should take care of that. Don't think you need an ambulance. You might get a nice scar out of it."

"Great," Phoenix said sourly.

"Don't be like that," she said with a twinkle. "It'll give you a rakish air. Like a pirate." Miles leveled a look at her but she was undaunted. "It'll be very dashing. All the ladies will be simply throwing themselves at you." There was a sort of growling sound and Miles was astonished to find it was coming from his own throat. Phoenix was gaping at him and Officer Plige stepped back.

"Sorry, was that a bit forward?" she gabbled. "I get carried away sometimes. He is awfully cute. Even with his face all covered in blood." Miles looked positively murderous and she shuffled away back to the squad car. Phoenix's eyes hadn't left Miles' face.

"Are you OK?" he asked. Miles gave a terse nod.

"Yes," he said tightly. Ema was walking back with a couple of other policemen. She looked unhappy.

"Bastard got away," she snarled. She flicked a hand at Miles. "Go get him cleaned up," she ordered. Miles looked stunned. "Well? What are you waiting for, Mr Wright to bleed out."

"Phoenix," Phoenix said weakly. "You promised you were going to stop calling me Mr Wright. It makes me feel old." Ema ignored him and made a shooing gesture to Miles, who stood up grumbling and hauled Phoenix to his feet.

"Very well, Detective. Come on, Wright." He opened his car door and shoved Phoenix inside. "Don't bleed on the upholstery," he instructed.

* * *

There weren't many restaurants in the city where Simon was comfortable and where Taka was also tolerated. But the sushi place near Simon's apartment was used to the surly prosecutor and his vicious bird.

"Blackquill-san, it is good to see you again," the proprietor said with a bow. She showed them personally to the small private dining room at the back of the restaurant.

Apollo watched for a moment as Simon touched Athena's face with a tenderness that was rather touching. He turned away, wistfulness causing his eyes to prick slightly.

"So," Simon said laconically. "You think Julian St John is guilty?"

"I don't know," Apollo said tiredly. "Something about the whole case just seems… off. I know that's not very informative, but I can't put my finger on what it is."

"Hmm," Simon said. He leaned back and casually draped one arm across Athena's shoulders. "Athena?"

She looked up at him, blue eyes shimmering. "I'm sorry, Simon. I know you wanted me to take this case. But Julian St John frightens me. I'll ask Mr Wright for a good recommendation of another attorney." Simon waved a hand dismissively.

"No need. He's already requested Martha Bose." Athena stared at him.

"I thought she had retired," she objected. Simon smiled his terrifying smile.

"Not Mrs Bose. Miss. Her daughter."

"She named her daughter after herself?" Apollo asked curiously. Simon looked at him.

"Is that so strange? Many men are named after their fathers." Apollo shrugged.

"I guess. It's just unusual, I suppose." He rubbed a hand over his face. "Is she anything like her mother was supposed to be?" Simon's face went blank.

"The apple did not fall far from the tree," he said after a moment. Apollo nodded.

"OK. Look, can I talk to you about something else?" Simon looked eager.

"You want to talk about FR-3?"

"Uh…" He chugged his beer to hide his confusion.

"The Silver Diner Murders," Simon said impatiently.

"Oh! Yes. Umm. Kl- Prosecutor Gavin said that one of the victims, the one they couldn't identify? They finally figured out who she was. Angel Starr. She was a witness in the Bruce Goodman murder." Simon looked thunderstruck.

"Starr was in witness protection," he said angrily. Taka shrieked and flapped her wings. "What the Hell happened?" Apollo shrank back under the onslaught of Blackquill and his beloved pet's rage.

"I don't know," he said miserably. "Klav- uh, Gavin thinks it relates to this serial killer thing with Mr Wright."

"Of course," Simon said impatiently. "Which means that FR-3 is about to fall apart."

"Yes. I mean, I knew my client was innocent all along," Apollo said stoutly. Simon gave him a withering glare.

"So who was brandishing a knife and scaring all the customers? A doppelganger?"

"No, no. He did that all right. But he didn't kill anyone. Claims he threw the knife down and fled." Apollo explained. "The customers who ran away when he lost his temper didn't see that part. The only ones who did are all dead."

"An interesting man, your client," Simon said deadpan. "Tell me, does he often go around waving knives at people?"

"You're one to talk," Apollo replied sourly. "Look, Victor Sheng is a veteran. He's got PTSD after he was blown up in Iraq. He reacts badly to surprises. He says the waitress, uh, I forget her name, she startled him by dropping a plate. He had a flashback."

"Hmm," Simon commented. Athena poked him in the shoulder.

"Don't be so grumpy, Simon. So Apollo, how does FR-3 figure into the serial killer case?"

"I don't know," Apollo confessed. "Klavier and I are stumped." Athena concealed a smile, she'd caught Apollo almost using Prosecutor Gavin's first name a few times now. Apparently a little alcohol had loosened her fellow attorney's tongue to the point where no longer noticed himself doing it.

"What about the other two victims," Simon asked. Apollo scratched his head.

"Marcus Bridges and Dave Kowalski? My personal theory is whoever killed Angel Starr came for her. Looking at the defensive wounds on Bridges and Kowalski, I thought maybe they were trying to defend her. Just good guys doing their civic duty."

"Perhaps," Simon sniffed. He did not look impressed. "Or perhaps they were killed simply because they saw the killer's face." Apollo had to give him that.

"Yeah, you're right. It could be that simple. But doesn't it mean that our killer is escalating?" Simon nodded gravely.

"Indeed. Whether it indicates a loss of control remains to be seen. But yes, I think our killer is building up to something. And I think that means that all of you are in danger."

* * *

Back at Miles' apartment, Edgar had already set up Trucy in one of the spare bedrooms and was outside the door, alert and wary.

"Edgar," Miles said. "Any trouble?" Edgar shook his head.

"No," he said shortly. "I heard you had a tangle with a gunman." Miles nodded.

"Yes," he said. "It's… odd." Edgar gave him a curious glance but Miles shook his head and tugged Phoenix inside the apartment. He dragged him into the bathroom and pushed him to sit on the edge of the tub.

"Let's see about this cut," he said, almost to himself. He pulled antiseptic, cotton balls and a package of butterfly closures out of the small cabinet above the sink. Phoenix swallowed nervously, uncomfortable with the close proximity and the heady scent of Miles' cologne. Something woody and light, sophisticated. It made his head swim. Miles dabbed at the cut on his cheek and he winced.

"Sorry, Wright," he said. "It's going to sting a bit." He cleaned the wound thoroughly and then applied the butterfly strips. Then he smiled at Phoenix and the attorney's stomach flipped over.

"Uh, thanks," he stuttered.

"I think you need a drink," Miles said. Phoenix nodded dumbly, not trusting himself to speak. He followed Miles through the apartment into the kitchen, where Miles produced some French brandy and two glasses. He poured a generous measure into each glass and thrust one into Phoenix's hand. It was only then that Phoenix realized his friend's hands were shaking.

"Miles?" he said uncertainly. "Are you OK?"

"That was close," Miles said unsteadily. "I nearly lost you…" He looked appalled at this confession.

"I… You saved my life, Miles." Phoenix said. Miles nodded and took a large swallow of brandy.

Phoenix followed suit, and breathed in deeply as the warmth of the alcohol spread through his body.

Miles was staring at the gash on his face. He suddenly reached out with his hand and brushed his fingers across Phoenix's face, taking care to avoid the injury. Phoenix flushed.

"Uh, Miles?" he gulped.

"Hush," Miles said absently. "Just… shut up for a moment." Discomfort squirmed in Phoenix's stomach. This was dangerous, even if Miles didn't know it. Standing so close to the man he'd loved from afar for as long as he could remember, he couldn't stand this tenderness from him now. Because whatever was going on in Miles' head, there was no way there'd ever be anything more than friendship between them and Phoenix had resolved years ago to be happy with that. He pulled away from Miles' touch and the taller man dropped his hand.

"I'm sorry, Wright," Miles said, his tone cooler and more formal. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No, it's fine. It's just my whole face is sore," Phoenix lied. Miles nodded and relaxed again, then steered him towards the living room. He dropped heavily onto the couch and gestured for Phoenix to join him. It was the biggest, softest sofa Phoenix had ever sat on and he couldn't help but groan in pleasure. He turned his head to see Miles staring at him, an arrested look on his face.

"Miles?" His friend shook himself and tugged off his cravat. He tossed it carelessly onto the coffee table and then toed off his shoes. Phoenix watched him silently.

"What's going on, Miles?" he asked.

"I don't know," the prosecutor admitted. He removed his socks and shrugged out of his jacket, dumping it on the back of the couch. Phoenix turned his head away, aware that he was staring. "I think our mystery gunman just added a whole new layer of complexity to this tiresome business." Miles added. Phoenix looked back at him to see he'd loosened his collar and rolled up his sleeves. His mouth went dry at the sight of Miles' bare forearms. _Will you stop that_ , he thought to himself.

"What do you mean?" he forced himself to ask. Miles ran one hand through his hair, tilting his head back and baring his throat. Phoenix forgot how to breathe.

"I don't think this was our serial killer," Miles said to the ceiling. "He's slow, methodical, controlled. Tonight was about anger, revenge." Phoenix sucked in a breath.

"Wonderful," Phoenix said bitterly. "Two separate psychos are out to kill me? Just great." Miles eyed him for a moment.

"I won't let anything happen to you," he promised. Phoenix looked down at his hands.

"Thanks. But you've got enough to deal with…"

"No," Miles said firmly. "It's decided. You're staying here until we find whoever is after you and lock them away." Phoenix opened his mouth to object but stopped when he saw the look on Miles face. He'd never win an argument with his friend when he was in this mood.

"All right," he grumbled. "You win. For now." Miles looked positively delighted, he noted grumpily.

"You need to rest," Miles said. "You've had a shock and it's been a long day." Phoenix stifled a yawn and nodded. He let Miles guide him to another guestroom, next to Trucy. Just as he was about to enter the room, Miles grabbed his elbow.

"You're safe here," Miles said. "With me." Phoenix caught his lower lip between his teeth and Miles' gaze dropped to his mouth. Then he let go of Phoenix's arm as though it burned and gave him a brusque nod. "Good night, Wright," he said and then walked away.


	3. Chapter 3

It was some time after 3am and Phoenix had been staring at the ceiling for at least an hour. Still riding the adrenaline rush of being shot at and then the forced intimacy of Miles treating the cut on his cheek. Phoenix groaned to himself. He really needed to stop thinking about that. He rolled out of bed and padded into the en suite bathroom, smiling to himself at the relative luxury compared to his own apartment with its one shared bathroom that Trucy managed to spend ever longer inside each morning. She was growing up and fast.

He stared at himself in the mirror, his eyes like bruises and his lips pale. He splashed some water onto his face and leaned on the sink. It was no use, he wasn't going to get any more sleep tonight. He returned to the bedroom and crept out into the hall, not wanting to disturb his daughter or Miles. But as he got closer to the living room, he realised that there was light leaking under the door. He opened it and slipped inside, blinking in the dim light of a small table lamp on a side table. Miles was stretched out on the sofa, dressed in gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. His glasses were resting crookedly on his nose and a heavy book on tort law resting on his lap gave testament to what he'd been doing when he'd fallen asleep. Phoenix felt his heart race. He'd never seen Miles like this, utterly relaxed and peaceful and his unwanted attraction to his friend was thudding in his chest. He stood there just staring at the other man for a moment, drinking in the view. Then Miles shifted slightly and the book slid off his legs and onto the floor with a huge thump.

* * *

Miles jerked awake suddenly and then started at the sight of Wright standing over him.

"Uh," he said intelligently. "Wright?"

"Sorry, Miles," Wright said, his cheeks darkening. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"It's not a problem," Miles said vaguely. "Are you all right?"

"Not really," Wright admitted. He always wore his heart on his sleeve, Miles thought. Never tried to hide how he felt. Except that wasn't really true was it? It was when they were younger. But the events that had seen Wright disbarred and Kristoph Gavin on death row had made him more cynical and less open than he had once been and Miles mourned the loss. He shook himself, such musings were pointless.

"Talk to me, Wright," Miles said. He swung his legs down and patted the sofa beside him. Phoenix eyed the space like it was going to bite him then sat down gingerly, perching as far away from Miles as he could. Miles eyed him curiously.

"I can't sleep," Wright admitted. "It's all been a bit much."

"You should try this," Miles said with a rueful grin as he picked up his book from the floor. Wright gave a soft laugh that gave Miles a strange feeling in his stomach. "Do you want a drink? I have hot chocolate. Or the brandy, if you want something stronger." Wright frowned.

"Brandy? Sure, that sounds good." Miles got up and opened his liquor cabinet, hunting for his favorite cognac, a better one than the drink he'd served them earlier. He normally kept it for special occasions but there hadn't been many of those recently. He found it and grabbed a couple of crystal glasses and splashed a generous measure into each one. He sat back on the sofa and handed one to Wright, jumping as their fingers accidentally brushed. The light in here was not strong, but the way Wright's pupils dilated was unmistakable. Wright gulped and it made Miles feel rather breathless as his eyes tracked the movement of the attorney's throat. He really needed to get a grip.

* * *

Phoenix felt the shock of their fingers touching like a jolt of electricity. His eyes flew up to meet Miles' gaze and swallowed hard. Miles had that arrested expression on his face again and Phoenix could feel his cheeks reddening. He hoped that the low light in the room was hiding his reaction. He dropped his eyes and sipped at the brandy, smiling slightly as the warmth spread through his body. He wasn't much of a drinker, and it always made him flush so hopefully Miles wouldn't notice that he was blushing before he even took a single sip. Miles swallowed a large mouthful and his hands were shaking again.

"Miles?" Phoenix said gently. "I'm sorry, I've been very selfish."

Miles turned to him in astonishment. "Selfish?" he echoed in confusion. "I don't understand."

"You were in the firing line as much as me, and I've been focusing completely on myself and-" Miles held up a hand to interrupt him.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said. "You were hurt and you were worried about Trucy as well as yourself. You have nothing to feel guilty about. I'm fine." Phoenix nodded and gulped the drink down in one mouthful. He was feeling a lot more relaxed and he sat back, a slight smile on his face. The liquor was making him sleepy and he let his eyes drift closed for a moment.

* * *

Miles stared at Wright, lounging against the sofa and looking slightly foxed. He never could hold his drink, Miles thought fondly. He cleared his throat and took another swallow of cognac. He touched Wright on the shoulder, and he mumbled but didn't open his eyes. His hair fell messily across his forehead.

"Wright," Miles said quietly. The attorney didn't stir. Miles's fingers twitched with the effort of resisting the urge to brush Wright's hair away from his face. He drained his glass and slid it onto the coffee table. He raked a hand through his hair and realized he was also rather drowsy. He leaned back, considering heading back to bed. But before he could finish the thought, he fell asleep.

* * *

Phoenix awoke to find himself stretched out on the couch, a sheet placed over him. He wondered vaguely why he wasn't in bed in Miles's spare room when he remembered his late-night drinking and falling asleep here. Miles had obviously been unable to rouse him and had covered him with a sheet before going back to bed.

"Hey, Uncle Miles," a voice said behind him. "Thanks for letting us stay over last night." Phoenix whirled around to see Miles entering the room, Trucy hot on his heels. His daughter was smiling at him but it dimmed slightly when she saw his face.

"Daddy!" she exclaimed. "What happened to you?"

"Someone shot at us last night," Miles informed her. Phoenix turned back to his friend and glared at him. Miles shrugged. "She's old enough to be told the truth about what's going on," he said firmly. "She's not a little girl anymore." Trucy's eyes were like saucers.

"Shot?" she said unsteadily and Phoenix gave Miles a hard look before turning back to her.

"Yes," he said. "I'm afraid there's something going on that I guess you need to know about." He explained about the gunman from the night before. Trucy looked shellshocked.

"We're not going back to the apartment for a few days," Phoenix told her. "I'm going to get us a hotel room." He saw Miles start out of the corner of his eye.

"You're perfectly welcome to stay here," Miles said stiffly. "In fact, I'd prefer it. The security on this building is much better than any hotel's." Phoenix shook his head.

"That's kind of you," he said carefully. "But it's not fair for us to impose on you like this. It was good of you to let us stay last night. I don't want you to feel like you have to keep hosting us."

"If the only one we had to worry about was you, I'd let you go to a hotel if it made you more comfortable. You're famously indestructible," Miles said slyly. "But none of us will ever forgive ourselves if anything happened to Trucy." Phoenix twitched and his face went white. "Even small hotels have a large number of strangers coming and going. It makes security that much harder. The chance of someone slipping through is just too great." The attorney swallowed hard and nodded.

"OK, Miles," he said reluctantly. "You're right. You win. We'll stay here if you really don't mind. We'll try and stay out of your hair as much as possible."

"I think you should stay away from the office as well," Miles said. "Cykes and Justice too."

Phoenix frowned. "I'm not so well paid I can afford to just put my business on hold," he objected. "And we have clients who are relying on us."

Miles shrugged easily. "We still haven't recruited to the open prosecutor's position," he said thoughtfully. There's an empty office and I'm sure I can arrange for Edgar to bring your computer and your files over."

Phoenix rubbed the back of his neck, a classic sign that he was uncomfortable. "I don't know, Miles," he said. "It's going to look really strange."

"Nonsense," Miles dismissed with a wave. As long as you come and go through the courtroom entrance, nobody will even notice."

* * *

Apollo stared down at the text on his phone as he loitered outside the Silver Diner. Crime scene tape was festooned across the doors like a ghastly mockery of a carnival.

 _Stay away from the office. Someone shot at us last night. Meet me at the courthouse when you're free. PW_

Shot at! What the Hell was going on? Apollo texted back a quick reply and then sent another to Athena to find out her plans for the day. He'd just pressed send when the throaty roar of Klavier's motorcycle attracted his attention.

Klavier looked spectacular today, even more than usual. His hair gleamed, his purple suit accentuated his slim but muscular frame and his eyes were bright.

"Forehead!" he exclaimed expansively. "You're here early." Apollo shrugged, he'd always been a lark.

"Did you hear about what happened to Mr Wright and Mr Edgeworth," he asked, changing the subject.

"Herr Edgeworth called me last night," Klavier said, his easy demeanor gone. "It makes no sense, Apollo." Apollo blinked at the use of his name.

"I don't understand," he admitted.

"How does shooting at Phoenix Wright fit into the narrative?" Klavier said. "Either the motivations of the killer are not what we thought they were, or this was somebody else entirely."

"Are you sure they were shooting at Mr Wright?" Apollo asked. Klavier stared at him.

"You think they were shooting at the chief prosecutor?" He pondered the suggestion. "Maybe you're right. Maybe we've been focusing on the wrong target. Well, we can't solve that mystery right now. Come on, let's take a look at this scene."

* * *

The bodies had been removed but otherwise the scene looked exactly as it had in the crime scene photos. Klavier picked his way through the blood and broken china to the counter. He twisted his fingers in his hair absently as his eyes cataloged the disorder. Apollo tried not to watch him, tried to focus on finding a clue. He turned his head and something caught his eye by the back door. He stepped carefully through the wreckage of the diner and dropped to a crouch to see a small slip of blue paper, crumpled and bloody, caught in the hinge of the door.

"Klavier," he called out. "I've got something." He heard the prosecutor approach and make an approving noise.

"You have good eyes, Forehead," he said. He pulled a pair of gloves from his pocket and slipped them on, then gently freed the paper from the door. It was a sticky note, and written on it in Sharpie was the words Angel Starr.

Klavier looked at the paper, a cold feeling running down his spine. What did this mean? Clearly Starr was not an unlucky victim of a random act of violence. Apollo was looking up at him, his eyes wide and Klavier had to swallow the strange clogging sensation in his throat.

"She was deliberately targeted," Apollo said baldly. Klavier nodded.

"Ja. But… why write her name on a sticky note? It's odd, don't you think?"

"Very odd. I mean, if you knew who she was and wanted to kill her, why write her name down at all? And I can't imagine a professional killer would need a memo of his target's name like this."

"Professional killer?" Klavier mused. Apollo folded his arms across his chest.

"If you're intending to kill someone, a specific someone, and you aren't doing it for personal reasons, then the next logical explanation is that you're doing it for money. But this doesn't seem like a professional hit. It's sloppy, messy. There were witnesses, the killer took a huge risk. Nothing in this case makes a damn bit of sense!"

Klavier tugged on his hair in frustration. Forehead was right, this didn't fit any of the typical profiles of murderers. The victim was deliberately targeted, by someone who didn't know her personally and yet was willing to kill her?

"What if the sticky note was attached to a photo?" Apollo said suddenly. Klavier thought about it.

"You mean someone gave a photo to the killer with this note, like an instruction? Perhaps but that doesn't really tell us anything."

"No," Apollo agreed. "Except that maybe the police missed other sticky notes at the other scenes. It would at least answer the question of whether these cases really are linked." Klavier pulled out his phone and called Ema.

"What is it?" she barked as she answered.

"As sunny as always, Fraulein," Klavier said in amusement. "I have a question about the three murders we've attributed to our serial killer."

"OK," Ema said grudgingly. "Give me a moment to call up the file." He heard her typing on her computer. "What do you want to know?"

"Were there any pieces of paper retrieved from the scenes?" Klavier asked.

"Hmm. In the Galactica murder, yes there was a lot of paper. Flyers, ticket stubs, you name it. I haven't cataloged it all yet. In the Hawthorne case, we have the wrappings of a parcel inside which the sections of the sword were carefully concealed in food items. And in the Powers murder. Um no. Nothing."

"I see," Klavier said disappointed. "It was worth a shot."

"Is there something specific you were looking for?" Ema asked tiredly. "Are you saying we missed something?"

"Not necessarily," Klavier said. "It may be nothing. But Herr Justice and I are at the Silver Diner. We found a sticky note with Angel Starr's name on it. We're still not sure if this case is related to the other murders or not." There was a sharp intake of breath.

"I have a sticky note from the Max Galactica killing. It was stuck to a promotional photograph. It didn't seem to be important."

"Was anything written on it? And did you check it for fingerprints?" Klavier barked.

"The sticky note just said 'Him'," Ema said. "It was odd, but it didn't seem important. No fingerprint analysis was ordered but I'll put it through immediately."

"Anything in the parcel wrappings?"

"No," Ema said distractedly, the sound of her fingers flying over her keyboard. "Wait. There's a newspaper clipping, with a photo of Iris and another woman. They're both in nun's habits. Iris's name is scrawled across it in Sharpie."

"That's it!" Klavier exclaimed. "But you say there was nothing similar in the Powers evidence."

"Not that I can see," Ema admitted. "I'll go down to the evidence locker and look for myself. I'll get back to you if I find anything." She hung up.

* * *

Phoenix looked around the empty prosecutor's office with a sigh. Miles had pulled out all the stops, his computer and all his files had been transported over, there was a coffee maker, a Keurig not a crappy no-name machine from a drugstore and two desks brought up from storage for Apollo and Athena. Apollo was off somewhere working his case but Athena was staring around the elegant space, her eyes like saucers.

"Wow," she said. "Just, wow."

"Isn't Simon's office much the same?" Phoenix asked her.

She gave a shy smile. "I guess, but it's kind of full of books and Taka's claimed the back third of the room for herself.

"She would," Phoenix agreed. "OK. Well. I guess we have work to do."

Athena cast him a nervous look. "Are you mad at me about dropping Julian St John as a client?" she asked suddenly. Phoenix stared at her.

"No," he denied. "If you don't believe your client to be innocent, of course you shouldn't take the case. I was just surprised, that's all."

"Surprised that I dropped it, or surprised that I thought he was guilty?"

"Neither," Phoenix said. "I was surprised you even considered taking him on in the first place."

Athena hunched her shoulders. "Simon insisted I take a look at it," she admitted. Phoenix gave her a disapproving look.

"You shouldn't take a client on just because Blackquill wants you to," he told her. "His loyalties can be… mixed."

"Simon wouldn't have asked me to do this if he didn't have serious doubts," Athena said stoutly. "He genuinely thought there was something off with the case against St John."

"That's all very well," Phoenix said sternly. "But you need to consider how this looks. We don't need fresh accusations of collusion between prosecutors and defense attorneys, so soon after the end of the Dark Age of the Law." Athena put one hand on her hip.

"Oh really? And you suddenly moving in with the Chief Prosecutor, that's not going to cause gossip and innuendo?" Phoenix's face darkened and she knew she'd gone too far.

"You know perfectly well why Trucy and I are staying with Miles," he snapped. "I would have taken us to a hotel, but Miles was concerned it would be too hard to keep it secure. His apartment is as locked down as the White House. We're safer there than anywhere else." Athena looked suitably chastised but her mind was whirling. There were plenty of secure locations Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth could have stashed Mr Wright and his daughter. The police maintained a number of safe houses in the city and if things were really desperate, the Chief of Police could have placed them in protective custody. Or they could have headed out to Kurain Village to stay with Maya. Surely that would be a secure location.

"OK," she said dubiously. "I'm not saying it doesn't make sense, I'm just saying people will talk."

"People do little else," Phoenix said bitterly. He dropped into his chair and turned on his computer. "So, do you have any other potential clients lined up?" Athena shook her head, her ponytail swaying in counterpoint.

"Not really," she said. "St John was the last possible on my list."

"Well, I'm going to bounce this one to you then," Phoenix told her. "She's asked for my help, but I think this case could use your particular expertise." He tapped at his computer for a moment and then sat back. Athena flashed a grin at him.

"Great!" she exclaimed. Her email program on her phone buzzed at her and she pulled up the message her boss had sent her.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"You were very mysterious this morning," Apollo said in lieu of a greeting when Klavier opened his office door. The rockstar prosecutor grinned at him.

"Not me, Herr Forehead. The Fraulein Detective." Apollo gave him a steady look.

"She found something?" Klavier shrugged easily.

"Maybe. All her text said was to meet here at 1pm. So here we are. Or rather, here you are, thirty minutes early. You're lucky I was even here."

"Nonsense," Apollo said dismissively. "You're here at 7am every morning." Klavier raised one perfect eyebrow at him and he flushed. "You send emails from your official account that early."

"How do you know I am not emailing from home?" Klavier challenged. "Perhaps I am in bed, lying naked on silken sheets, emailing you from my phone." Apollo's color only deepened at that vivid image.

"Your email program adds a line to the bottom of your emails marking them as coming from your iPhone," he pointed out. "And anyway, I ride past the courthouse on my way to work each morning. I've seen you."

"Aha!" Klavier exclaimed as if he'd caught Apollo out somehow. "So you've been stalking me, Herr Forehead!"

"Hardly," Apollo objected. "I can't help it if I ride past the courthouse at the same time as you arrive." He certainly wasn't going to admit that after the first time he'd accidentally ridden past when Klavier was climbing off his motorcycle that he'd deliberately altered his schedule to make sure he rode down the street at exactly the same time, in the hope of seeing Klavier shaking his glorious hair free of his helmet. Klavier leaned forward, a wicked smile on his lips and just as he opened his mouth to say something, the sound of someone clearing their throat rather dramatically caught his attention.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Ema said dryly. She'd been watching Klavier's body language for a few moments from the open doorway. What was going on between him and Apollo anyway?

"Of course not," Klavier said casually, but there was a tightness around his eyes that told her that he was lying.

"Come on then," Apollo said impatiently. "What's the big mystery?"

"Will Powers," Ema said bluntly. "I found this." She handed Klavier an evidence bag containing a Steel Samurai DVD cover, signed in Will Powers illegible scrawl. Apollo and Klavier exchanged looks.

"This isn't as conclusive as the others," Apollo said hesitantly.

"No, maybe not on it's own," Ema agreed. "Turn it over." Klavier flipped the cover over and then gave a gasp. There was a sticker on the reverse claiming the DVD to be a special edition, with an exclusive interview with Will Powers, along with a photo of Powers.

"Those DVD's were an extremely limited release," Ema told them. "They made only a thousand copies. And a signed one's even rarer. Will Powers signed just five on the release and although we don't know if he signed others at fan events and the like, it's still not likely to be very many. Most of these were shipped overseas, there were fewer than fifty sold in the US."

"Do we know the names of all the buyers?" Klavier asked. She nodded.

"Yeah. But you're not going to like the answer. That cover there was one of the original five signed copies. It was sold at a charity auction to help the homeless by an anonymous donor." Her eyes twinkled and Apollo got the impression that she was toying with them.

"Anonymous?" Klavier said, sounding frustrated. "Dammit."

"Ah, it gets better," Ema said smugly. "I found the anonymous bidder's name. Quite by accident really, but he didn't cover his tracks particularly well."

"Perhaps he didn't really expect anyone to try and track him down," Klavier mused. "So who is it?"

"Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth of course!" Ema said with a flourish. Apollo and Klavier stared at her in horror. "What? Isn't this a breakthrough?"

"Ema," Klavier said patiently. "Since we don't think Herr Edgeworth is our serial killer, what do you think it means?" She thought about it for a moment.

"It means that whoever it was knows Mr Edgeworth bought the DVD at that charity auction. Which means he was there. It's a $50,000 a plate event, which means either our killer is rich and was an attendee or he was part of the staff working the event. It's a long list of names to work through, but it's a lead."

"All of that is true," Klavier agreed. "But aren't you missing something?" Ema frowned at him, confused. "It means our killer has been inside Herr Edgeworth's apartment at least once," Klavier explained. "Phoenix and Trucy Wright are staying there right now for security reasons, but our murderer was able to waltz in and steal this DVD without Herr Edgeworth or his vaunted security even noticing he'd been robbed." Apollo gasped.

"Oh, shit!" he bit out and then flushed. "Sorry, Ema." She glared at him.

"I'm not a shrinking violet, fainting at the first sound of a curse word," she said primly. "Mr Gavin, I think you're overreacting."

"Really," Klavier asked her. "Three people are dead, someone fired a gun at Phoenix Wright last night and you think I'm overreacting?"

"Yes," Ema said. "Are you sure Mr Edgeworth didn't keep that DVD here, in his office?" Klavier stared at her, thunderstruck.

"That's not better," he cried. "The Wright Anything Agency has set up temporary shop in the empty prosecutor's office. Nobody should be able to gain access to these offices without authorization."

"Wait a second," Apollo objected. "Klavier, I understand you're upset but let's be realistic. Are we certain that Mr Edgeworth hadn't sold the DVD or loaned it to someone?" Klavier stiffened for a moment, but Apollo's words clearly were sinking in and he subsided.

"You're right," he said finally. "We're speculating wildly without sufficient evidence one way or the other. We should establish exactly where that DVD was known to be before Mr Powers murder." Ema cast a wry glance at Apollo. Prosecutor Gavin had not been pleased when she accused him of a disproportionate response but he accepted that same criticism from Apollo without resistance. Interesting…

Miles Edgeworth was not a happy man. The quivering police officer in front of him was well aware of his displeasure.

"Just to be clear," he said evenly. "You're telling me that the only physical evidence from the attempted murder of one of the leading attorneys in Los Angeles, if not the state of California, has _disappeared_?" The young woman gulped.

"Yes sir. It was supposed to be taken directly to Detective Skye. I assigned Officer Fingir to the task myself." Officer Himar explained.

"Officer Fingir?" Miles said, his eyebrows diving over his nose. "I'm not familiar with that name."

"He just transferred from San Diego," Himar told him. "He's only been with the department a few weeks."

"Hmm," Miles said. "Very well, Himar. Send Fingir to me immediately. That will be all." Himar saluted smartly and then fled. Miles got up to make some tea and cursed when there was a knock at his door.

"Come in," he said wearily. The door swung open to reveal an unusually stressed-looking Klavier Gavin, a curiously smug Ema Skye and a more than typically exasperated Apollo Justice. He raised an eyebrow at this bizarre gathering.

"Herr Edgeworth," Gavin said hesitantly. "We need to ask you a question." Miles returned to his desk and gestured to the mismatched grouping to sit.

"You own a limited edition Steel Samurai DVD," Ema said without preamble. "You bought it at a charity auction several years ago. It was one of only five that not only contained an exclusive interview with Will Powers, but was also signed by him."

"Yes," Miles said impatiently. "What of it?"

"Where is it now?" Ema said bluntly.  
"In my apartment," Miles told her. "What is this all about?" She wordlessly produced the cover she'd presented to Gavin and Apollo earlier that morning. Edgeworth stared at it in horror and then held out his hand. She gave it to him and watched as he examined it closely.

"Where did you find this?" he asked, his voice deepening with tension.

"At the Will Powers crime scene." she told him. He flipped it between his fingers for a moment.

"OK," he said finally. "What does it mean?"

"I have a theory," Klavier said. "Each of the crime scenes has a labeled photograph of the victim, except the Silver Diner, where we only found a sticky note with Angel Starr's name, but no picture."

"A sticky note?" Edgeworth asked, the cogs clearly turning in his mind. "You think it was originally attached to an image of Starr, but that they got separated. That the killer lost the note, but not the photo." Gavin nodded.

"Yes. My theory is that each murder is being committed by a different person. The mastermind behind it is furnishing each killer with their target. But they will have no direct connection to the victim themselves I would think."

"But you don't think this is the work of an assassin," Justice prompted. Gavin gave him a long considering look.

"No. Not actually committing the murders. As we discussed this morning, they're… not like professional killings. Even the profiler, Professor Morgan, admitted that there was an inconsistency in both MO and signature."

Miles contemplated the notion. "So how is our puppet master choosing his puppets?" he asked finally. Gavin barked out a humorless laugh.

"Puppet master? Quite. I don't know. We don't even know who any of our killers are, if this is indeed what has happened."

"That's not true," Justice objected. "I have an alternative suspect in the Silver Diner case at least." Gavin quirked a brow at him.

"The waitress? You're insane, Forehead."

"Am I? Who else is there, other than my client whom I believe to be innocent?"

"Apollo," Gavin said patiently. "Brandi Snapps is four feet ten and a hundred pounds soaking wet I'd wager."

"I'm sure you're right," Justice said snidely. Gavin looked irritated.

"My point is, how does a tiny woman like that overpower two large men and an ex-police officer? Starr was a seasoned officer, she knew how to handle herself even if she'd left years ago."

"I don't know," Justice admitted. He'd stepped closer to Gavin during this conversation, his fists clenched and he was staring pugnaciously into the taller man's eyes.

"Oh, get a room you two," Ema snarked and both men started in surprise. Justice stepped back, but neither of them looked away.

"Could she have drugged them?" Apollo turned to ask Ema. She pursed her lips.

"Nothing came up on the tox screen," she told him. "But we don't test for everything. Just the common stuff. I'll talk to the medical examiner. Sometimes there are tiny hints that don't mean anything unless you suspect a drug or poison." Apollo nodded.

"Ja, well then we have a plan," Klavier said. "We will go talk to Fraulein Snapps, and see if we can shake something loose, and the Fraulein Detective will ask the medical examiner if the other victims were poisoned or drugged."

"Good," Miles said distractedly. "Detective Skye, what leads are you working in the Max Galactica and Will Powers murders?" Ema pouted.

"Leads?" she said witheringly and Miles leveled a look at her. She gulped and added hastily, "I haven't got much to go on and we're spread rather thin…" Miles's face grew stern.

"Who else is working those cases with you?" he asked. She shook her head at him.

"Nobody. Officer Banks is on maternity leave and they never hired anyone to cover for her. Officer Manny Iglesias was shot last month and is still recuperating. Detectives Anders and Hakkinen are working several cases already and Detective Monroe… well, he and I don't exactly get along. And anyway, he's still partly attached to Interpol after more of those Borginian cocoons turned up on the black market last week."

"I see," Miles said. "What happened to Detective Cheng?" She gaped at him.

"You didn't hear? He's suspended pending an investigation. He's the one who shot Manny."

"What?" Miles barked. "Why?"

"I don't know," Ema said miserably. "Rumor has it that Manny was sleeping with Cheng's wife. But that doesn't make any sense. It's not widely known, but Manny's gay."

"Maybe he's bisexual," Klavier offered helpfully.

"I don't think so," Ema said. "But even if he were, Manny's a good guy. He wouldn't do that to a fellow officer."

"A rumor doesn't have to be true to be believed," Miles said with a curious edge to his voice. Ema blinked at him.

"That's true," she admitted. "Maybe Cheng just heard the rumor and didn't know about Manny's preferences."

"Very well," Miles said. "Tell Chief Gumshoe I want to see him in my office, at his earliest convenience." Ema gave him a short nod and turned on her heel to stride out of the office. Klavier watched her leave but made no move to follow her.

"Is there something else?" Miles said tiredly.

"You need to move out of your apartment," Klavier said bluntly. "We have clear evidence the security has been compromised."  
"Yes, I suppose you're right. Damn it, I don't want to go to a hotel. It's almost impossible to maintain good security in that environment." He raked a hand through his hair.

"I have a house," Klavier said suddenly. "I bought it for the band when we were recording and the like. But since the Gavinners disbanded, it's been empty. It's in a very private gated community. Nobody would bother you there."

"A gated community," Miles mused. "That has possibilities. How large is the house?"

"There's enough rooms to house a dozen people," Klavier told him. "More if anyone doubles up." Miles raised an eyebrow at him and Klavier gazed back innocently. "Herr Blackquill and Fraulein Cykes for example?"

"Wait," Apollo objected. "Are you proposing we all move into your house? Me, Athena, Mr Blackquill, Mr Wright and Trucy?"

"And me and Herr Edgeworth. Yes." Klavier said. Apollo folded his arms across his chest.

"OK, I get why you're including Mr Edgeworth. But why Blackquill and why you?"

"Simon would not want to be parted from Athena," Miles said mildly. "But I agree with Justice, Klavier. Why are you volunteering to be part of this gathering?"

"It's my house," Klavier said defensively. "I can stay there if I want."

"Nobody is disputing that," Miles told him. "I'd still like to know wh-" he broke off as Klavier's gaze flicked guiltily to Apollo and understanding dawned. "Well, maybe you're right. After all, we don't want the neighbors calling the police because they don't recognize us. Communities like that tend to notice strangers." Klavier gave him a grateful look.

"Exactly," he agreed. Apollo narrowed his eyes at the Chief Prosecutor. That had been… odd. Why had he abandoned his objection to Klavier's moving in with them all so easily?

"OK," Apollo said aloud. "I have to go meet with my client. Klavier, I'll meet you back at your office at 3pm?" Klavier nodded.

"Ja. Hopefully the Fraulein Detective will have some answers for us by then."

Athena chewed nervously on her fingernail as she awaited her potential client in the detention center. Mr Wright had told her that this case would play to her particular strengths but honestly, she couldn't see how. The case file Detective Monroe had sent over was woefully thin. The suspect was Lisa Kresky, 42 year old divorcee and mother of three. She was accused of killing a woman named April May. Winston Payne was the assigned prosecutor. She sighed. A sound caught her attention and she looked up. The woman who had entered looked more like a librarian than a murderer, her black hair neatly bobbed at her chin and a pair of rimless glasses perched on her nose. She was petite, no more than an inch or two over five feet and Athena suspected she could almost circle Ms Kresky's waist with her hands.

"Miss Cykes?" Lisa asked. Her voice was low but authoritative.

"Hi," Athena said brightly. "You requested the services of the Wright Anything Agency. I'm Athena Cykes."

"Yes," Lisa said. "I was hoping for Mr Wright himself." Athena kept her smile pasted on, but inside she groaned.

"I know," she continued. "But Mr Wright's caseload is very large and he felt that your case might be suited to my particular skill set. Can you tell me a little about the case? I have the police file here but there's almost nothing in it. All it says is, you were seen entering Ms May's apartment around 10:30pm last night and that she was discovered the next morning, beaten to death with an unidentified heavy object. The time of death was estimated to between midnight and 3am."

"Detective Monroe is not a thorough man," Lisa said distastefully. "I already explained that I was in April's apartment no more than fifteen minutes."

"Did anyone see you leave?" Athena asked. Lisa shook her head and pursed her lips.

"No, but there should be an electronic record of me swiping into the parking lot for my condo. It's a thirty minute drive from April's apartment, so I probably arrived sometime around 11:15pm." Athena nodded and made a note to check up on the parking lot sensor data.

"OK," she said, thinking hard. "How well did you know Miss May?" Lisa gave a crooked smile.

"Probably better than most people," she said. "April's my cousin. When she was released from prison, I helped her get an apartment and a job. You know, get back on her feet. It wasn't easy, even though she wasn't convicted of a violent crime, perjury and wire-tapping are serious offences."

"She had a job?" Athena said in surprise. "That's not in the file."

"Like I say, not a detail guy our Detective Monroe." Lisa retorted. "She works in the administration office of a community college affiliated with CULA."

"CULA?"

"The City University of Los Angeles. I'm on faculty there." Lisa told her.

"You're a professor?" Athena asked eagerly. "Of what?" Lisa looked almost embarrassed.

"Theoretical physics," she admitted. Athena's eyebrows shot up and Lisa rolled her eyes. "If you're going to say I don't look like a scientist, don't bother. I've heard all the jokes about mad professors and not being a dude in a white coat with mad hair."

"No," Athena said flushing. "I was just going to say you must be really smart." Lisa shrugged.

"Not smart enough to avoid being charged with murder," she said wryly. Athena grinned at her and there was a moment of understanding between the two women.

"So, other than the fact that you were there close to the time of the murder, what else makes the police think you killed her?" Athena asked. Lisa looked away and all of Athena's instincts went on full alert.

"I've no idea," Lisa lied. "The police are incompetent." And Athena didn't need Apollo's abilities or even her own training to see that Lisa wasn't telling the truth.

"OK," she said slowly. "You know, if you want me to defend you, you really need to tell me everything you know. And, I'm sorry, but if you lie to me, I can't do my job." Lisa sighed heavily.

"If I tell you, you'll think I did it. And I didn't. I swear."

"I promise to keep an open mind," Athena said, keeping her fingers crossed below the table.

"April had an affair with my husband. Ex-husband. It was the final straw that made me kick his ass to the kerb." Athena gaped at her.

"Oh no!" Widget blurted.

"I… I see what you mean," the young lawyer stuttered. "So why did you help her? I mean, she broke up your marriage."

"Bah!" Lisa exclaimed. "Eric was a slimeball. April's always been… easily led. She wasn't the only affair, just the first one I found out about. She's not a bad person, she just doesn't know when to say no. Especially to charming men."

"So you weren't angry with her?" Athena pressed.

"No," Lisa said wearily. "Irritated, perhaps. But honestly, Eric and I hadn't been getting on since before she got out of jail. I'd mostly been trying to ignore his constant late nights at the office and sudden business trips. If anything, in a sense I was grateful to April. She was so inept at keeping the secret of their affair, I couldn't turn a blind eye to it anymore. It convinced me to get off my butt and divorce the SOB."

"But you obviously understand how this will play in court," Athena said, troubled.

"Of course. Maybe you should call Eric to the stand," Lisa suggested. Athena stared at her in astonishment.

"Call your ex-husband to the stand? Why?"

"Eric's a sleazebag and a crappy husband. But the divorce was surprisingly amicable and we're almost friendly these days. He takes the kids twice a month, and pays his alimony on time and without complaint. I try to be accommodating if he wants to take them on vacation or swap his usual weekends around because of work. It's funny, we get on better now than almost the entire time we were married." Lisa smiled. "He'll tell you straight, I'm not a killer. And if I were, I'd have killed him, not my poor ditzy cousin."

"Don't say that in court!" Athena said in alarm.

"Don't be silly," Lisa admonished. "So, who did kill April?"

"You don't have any ideas about that?" Athena returned. Lisa frowned to herself.

"Redd White would be the only one who might want her dead, but he's in solitary confinement. I can't imagine he could do it even if he wanted to."

"Redd White…" Athena mused. Lisa raised an eyebrow at her.

"You do know Phoenix Wright is the one who put him in jail, right. And April too." Athena gasped.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry, I didn't even make the connection. Your cousin was _that_ April May?" Lisa rolled her eyes.

"Why else would I want Phoenix Wright as my attorney?"

Klavier stood outside his house and took a deep breath. Perhaps he should have asked Apollo to come with him. But these were his demons, not the diminutive attorney's. He swallowed and inserted the key, turning it and pushing the door open.

The house smelled clean but sterile. Nobody had been here since Daryan had been convicted except the cleaning crew who came in twice a month. An extravagance perhaps with nobody living here, but Klavier was glad of it now.

He walked slowly through the house, memories crowding at him and pinching at his skin. Daryan, drunk and unsteady, leaning against a door frame. Loren Tessitura laughing at one of Klavier's jokes. Bryan Grave, head bent over some lyrics, chewing the pencil in his fingers. So many good memories, now forever tainted by Daryan's betrayal. Was this a good idea? His phone buzzed.

 _Reminder: Interview with Brandi Snapps in one hour._

Time to leave. He grabbed the spare keys from a kitchen drawer and headed to the door. His phone buzzed again.

 _Klavier - wanna get coffee at Java Judgement b4 Snapps interview? AJ_

He stared at Apollo's text. He wanted to say yes but something held him back. He shook himself, Apollo was deliberately seeking his company. He'd be a fool to knock that back.

 _Sure. See you in ten? K_

 _I'll be there. AJ_


	5. Chapter 5

Apollo tapped at his computer irritably. So far his extensive internet searches had sent him scurrying down any number of dead ends. Conspiracy theories about the Silver Diner murders abounded, from aliens to shadowy government agents, they were all there. But prior to the crime, Brandi Snapps seemed to be an ordinary, law-abiding citizen. She didn't even have a speeding ticket. She'd moved to LA from Des Moines for college, had completed two years of a degree in European History at CULA and was apparently working as a waitress to pay at least some of her bills. She was… normal. Dull. Not exactly the profile of a killer. His phone rang.

"Ema?" he answered. "What's up?"

"Where's Gavin?" she snapped. "I've been trying to reach him all day."

"I don't know," Apollo told her. "We're not joined at the hip."

"Not yet, anyway," Ema said snidely. Apollo ground his teeth. "Look, I've got something. It's big. Meet me at the Java Judgement in five minutes. And if you can raise Gavin, bring him along." She hung up before Apollo could object. He sighed and texted Klavier, but if he was where Apollo suspected he was, then he probably wouldn't answer. He was surprised when he got an almost immediate response. He checked the time. He'd need to leave right now. He scribbled a quick note and left it on Mr Wright's desk, before dashing out the door.

* * *

Phoenix picked up the note on his desk and frowned.

 _Gone to meet Klavier and Ema 4 coffee re Silver Diner. See U Klavier's house. AJ._

Apollo was spending a lot of time with Gavin recently, and although they were working together on a case right now, it still seemed a little excessive.

"You look unhappy," a voice said from the door. Phoenix looked up to see Miles leaning against the door post. He swallowed, trying to ignore the way his stomach churned in Miles's presence.

"Hey, Miles," he stuttered. "Umm… what's up?" The prosecutor entered the room and draped himself in a chair.  
"I've just spoken to Detective Skye," Miles told him. "They examined the bullets from last night's shooting and found something rather surprising."

"Oh?" Phoenix said stupidly. "Surprising how?"

"The gun is an antique," Miles said. "In fact, they weren't bullets at all. They were musket balls."

"Musket balls?" Phoenix repeated. "Like, from a civil war era gun?"

"Not quite," Miles said. "These were from a flintlock dueling pistol." Phoenix couldn't keep his confusion off his face.

"Dueling pistol? Like, uh, old time England, pistols at dawn kind of thing?" The delighted smile on Miles's face made him feel warm and slightly dizzy.

"Exactly, Wright!" he exclaimed. "Now, these guns aren't illegal, but they are rare."

"I don't understand," Phoenix admitted. "I thought those things only fired one shot. There were at least four shots last night and there wasn't enough time to reload. I've seen TV, it takes ages to reload those things."

"Which means our shooter had multiple weapons," Miles agreed. "And that makes no sense. Flintlock pistols are notoriously unreliable, as likely to blow your hand off as fire correctly. And having to carry several around in order to make multiple shots. It's crazy."

"Is the killer sending a message?" Phoenix asked and Miles eyed him sharply.

"A message," he said slowly, as if the thought hadn't previously occurred to him. "What kind of message?"

"I don't know," Phoenix admitted. "It just seems that if you go to this much trouble, there's a reason." Miles stroked his chin contemplatively.

"I always forget how smart you are, Wright," Miles said. Phoenix stiffened.

"Objection!" he cried. "I didn't come here to be abused!" Miles began laughing, a deep rich sound that vibrated somewhere deep in the core of Phoenix's being. His cheeks reddened, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal.

"I'm sorry, Wright," Miles said once he'd regained his composure. "I didn't mean to insult you. But you cultivate this air of buffoonery and clownishness and it's hard to remember there's a sharp legal mind under there."

"Buffoonery? _Clownishness?"_ Phoenix gaped at Miles in horror. "You think I'm a fool," he said in dismay.

"What?" Miles said distractedly. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Oh I'm ridiculous too?" Phoenix was beginning to feel a little hysterical.

"Wright!" Miles barked. "Get a hold of yourself. You're freaking out." Phoenix swallowed, Miles was right, he was losing it.

"Sorry, Miles," he apologized. Miles nodded at him, a concerned expression on his face.

"Wright, I don't think you are a fool. Or a buffoon or a clown," Miles said firmly. "But you do like to pretend to be any or all of those things if it means people underestimate you." Phoenix flushed. "And I sometimes fall into that trap myself," he added.

"So, what now?" Phoenix asked, desperate to change the subject. Miles looked thoughtful.

"I'm not sure. I feel like we have a number of pieces of the puzzle, but I don't know what the shape of it is yet. I think we're missing something."

* * *

Taka was restless. Not her usual restlessness, that usually indicated that Simon had been neglecting her. This was different, and it was making Simon nervous. She pecked listlessly at the food he offered and wouldn't settle for more than a few minutes. Perhaps he ought to take her to the vet.

There was a tap at his door and he growled out a curt invitation. His mood lightened when Athena poked her head around the door.

"Have you had lunch yet?" she asked, knowing full well he had not. "I've got noodles!" He gave her a slow, grateful smile.

"Come in, Athena. No I haven't eaten yet." Athena bounced delightedly into the room and gave Taka a respectful bow. The bird ignored her.

"Is Taka OK?" she asked, her brows diving over her nose. Simon shook his head.

"I don't know. She's unsettled, and I don't know why." Athena peered at the hawk, apparently searching for some kind of clue. "I'm going to call her vet once we've finished eating." Athena nodded in agreement and placed the boxes of noodles on Simon's desk.

"I have a new client!" she announced and Taka squawked at her.

"So I've heard," Simon said easily. "I thought you might take her case."

Athena eyed him uncertainly. "You're not unhappy with me over the St John case are you?" Simon shook his head.

"No. I told you, it's fine. The case starts tomorrow, if you wanted to see it." Athena chewed her lip and Simon sighed. "Only if you feel like it, Athena."

"OK," she agreed.

"Now, tell me why you don't think Ms Kresky killed Ms May," Simon challenged smilingly.

"Two things," Athena said, scooping noodles into her mouth. "One, I just don't sense any animosity towards her cousin. April May was beaten to death with a statuette. It was brutal, and probably personal. Two, the timeline Detective Monroe has proposed is just impossible. Lisa Kresky was seen entering April May's apartment at around 10:30pm by two witnesses and she swiped her parking pass at her condo at 11:17am. It's a thirty minute drive between the two locations, assuming no traffic. So if she arrived at 10:30, she had to have left by 10:50pm at the very latest. The time of death was placed between midnight and 3am. I know estimates of the time of death are just that, estimates. But there's over an hour's discrepancy."

Simon stared at her, his eyes distant as his mind turned the facts over in his head. "That's more than a little awkward for the prosecution," he said finally. "Who's prosecuting?"

"Winston Payne," Athena said grumpily.

"Ugh," Simon dismissed. "He's useless. No intellectual curiosity. It's a strange quality in a prosecutor. So, tell me, if Ms Kresky didn't kill April May, who did?"

"I don't have any other suspects," Athena mused.

"No CCTV?" Simon asked and Athena shook her head mournfully.

"The camera near Ms May's apartment was broken. Had been out of service all week, apparently."

"That cannot be a coincidence," Simon observed.

"No, but it doesn't get me anywhere. If someone disabled it, they did so without being caught on the camera's last pictures."

"What does the detective on the case think?" Simon asked.

"Monroe? He thinks Ms Kresky did it." She noticed the look of disdain on Simon's face. "Not a fan of Detective Monroe?"  
"Man's incompetent," Simon spat. "And corrupt!"

Athena stared at him. "Corrupt?" she said in surprise. "I'd heard he wasn't the most… effective detective but corrupt?"

"I've caught him fabricating evidence in several of my trials," Simon said witheringly. "I told him to cut it out. I even brought my concerns to Edgeworth-dono, but he said that Monroe had friends in high places, and that we didn't have enough evidence that he was responsible for faking the evidence, as opposed to one of his underlings."

"Would Payne care if the evidence he used was fake?" Athena asked and Simon glowered.

"I don't really know," he said. "Payne and I don't exactly get on."

"Well," Athena said brightly. "I suppose I'll just have to see what happens."

Simon nodded, chewing thoughtfully. "You know, something about this case bothers me," he said finally. Athena raised an eyebrow at him and sat back, letting him collect his thoughts. "It's the name," he said finally.

"The name?" Athena said, confused. "What name?"

"April May," Simon said. "It's… familiar."

"Oh!" Athena replied. "It's probably because she went to jail because of Mr Wright. She was involved in the Redd White case. You know, he murdered Mr Wright's mentor, Mia Fey."

Simon stared at her, his face paling. "Athena, don't you think that's rather… odd?"

"Odd? You mean, because of the other murders? The ones related to the serial killer?"

"Yes," Simon said, looking very disturbed. "How did we miss this one?"

Athena stared back at him, a cold feeling sliding down her spine. "You think it's one of those?"

"Well, it's a very strange coincidence if it is not," Simon said finally.

"Well, Mr Wright didn't catch it because the request for assistance came from Ms Kresky's brother," Athena told him. "He didn't mention Miss May's name, just that his sister was accused of murdering her husband's lover."

"Fair enough," Simon said. "But I was actually talking about the police."

"Well, you said yourself Monroe is incompetent," Athena said after a moment.

"Perhaps," Simon said. "But now I have to get involved personally. Payne is going to pitch a fit."

* * *

Apollo sat in the coffee shop, fidgeting as he waited for Klavier and Ema to arrive. He heard rather than saw Klavier when the rockstar entered, his voice tugging at his insides in a way Apollo couldn't describe. And then he slid into the booth opposite Apollo, a vision in blond and purple.

"Hey," Apollo said, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. Klavier flashed his 1000 watt smile and Apollo felt his stomach flip over.

"Forehead," the blond said, sounding genuinely happy to see him. "What's the big news?"

"I don't know," Apollo admitted. "Ema was being all secret squirrel about the whole thing."

Klavier's teeth flashed as he grinned again. "It makes her happy," he commented. Apollo peered at him.

"Since when do you care about making Ema happy?" he asked curiously. Klavier shrugged idly but there was an edge in his eyes.

"Detective Skye has had a… difficult life. Much has been taken from her. Little given."

Apollo frowned at that sad summation of Ema's world. "I know that," he said carefully. "But you two don't really get on." Klavier gave a strained smile.

"It's complicated," he said and Apollo kicked himself. Why hadn't he spotted it before? Klavier was in love with Ema and she barely gave him the time of day. He quashed the unaccountable feeling of disappointment and focused on his sympathy for his friend.

"Well, she's hard to get close to, it's true," he agreed. "She finds it hard to trust people."

"She trusts you," Klavier noted. Apollo gave him a crooked smile.

"Because I treat her like a person, not a potential conquest. And I don't bug her for details about what Lana did. Or Joe Darke."

"Are you saying I treat Ema like a potential conquest?" Klavier said curiously. "I certainly don't press her for salacious details on the crimes that have touched her life."

"What? No, I didn't mean you," Apollo said loyally, although he kind of did. After all, Klavier flirted like most people breathed. Unconsciously and wholly without thought. "But a lot of people treat her like a curiosity. And then, when she got older and more uh… womanly… a lot of guys would hit on her not because of who she was but because of her connection to Joe Darke. Creepy dudes with a serial killer obsession." Klavier pulled a face.

"Mein Gott!" he exclaimed. "That's disgusting."

"Men are disgusting," Ema announced as she flopped gracelessly next to Apollo. "Now have I got some evidence for you." She brandished an envelope at Klavier and then let it drop onto the table. Klavier eyed her for a moment and then picked it up. He opened it and slid the contents out onto the table. There was a tox screen report, what looked like a DNA analysis report, a plastic evidence bag containing a syringe and another plastic evidence bag contained some duct tape. Apollo reached out and snagged the tox screen report.

It was actually several reports, one for each of the victims. The screens were negative but a line handwritten at the bottom of each one had been highlighted with a yellow Sharpie.

 _GHB screen is technically negative, however some possible traces were detected but they were outside the limit of detection and could be a false result._

Apollo puzzled over that for a moment and then picked up the syringe bag. Inside he could see a label that said "GHB traces detected". He then reached for the duct tape bag but there was nothing useful that he could see. So he pulled the DNA analysis report towards him and his eyebrows shot up.

"Brandi Snapps?" he blurted out. "I don't understand."

"It's simple," Ema said. "None of the bodies officially had GHB in their bloodstream. But it's hard to detect and expensive too. So it's not part of a standard tox screen, it has to be specifically requested. I put in a request, but unfortunately it's been too long since the victims died and if it was present, it's long gone. The lab reported that there could have been a trace amount, but you see here it says below the limits of detection? That means there could be some there, but the machine that runs this test isn't reliable at these low concentrations." Apollo screwed up his face as he tried to follow Ema's breathless recital. "So anyway, this syringe was found at the Iris Hawthorne crime scene. A lot of inmates use drugs and GHB is popular, so nobody apparently thought to mention it to me. That's when I requested the tox screen on all the victims. But it was too late, like I said. But check out that duct tape!"

"I don't get it," Apollo admitted.

"There are skin cells on it," Ema said patiently. "Brandi Snapps' skin cells, in particular."

"OK," Klavier interjected. "Come on, Ema. Spit it out."

"This duct tape has Brandi Snapps DNA on it _and_ traces of GHB. I think she taped a syringe of GHB to her leg or arm or some other place where it would be easier to reach but hard to spot. When she goes to commit the crime, she rips off the duct tape, grabs the syringe and jabs her victims and then takes the syringe with her when she leaves. But she left the duct tape behind, not realizing it would tie her to the crime."

Klaver and Apollo gaped at her.

"This is… pretty definitive," Klavier said at last. "Ema, you are a genius." Ema flushed with pleasure at the unexpected compliment.

"So, let's go talk to Ms Snapps," Apollo said impatiently. "Then we can get my client off the hook!"

* * *

Blackquill as just leaving his office as Edgeworth arrived, looking rather harried. Taka was in her travel cage and seemed unusually subdued.

"Edgeworth-dono," he said respectfully and nodded out a slight bow. "Forgive me, but I have an appointment."

"No problem," Edgeworth said, cursing internally. "It wasn't important."

Simon canted an eyebrow at him. "What do you need?"

"I've been asked to visit a prisoner, one with special standing. I rather hoped you'd come with me. Your understanding of the prison's internal politics and your expertise in psychology would be rather useful," Edgeworth said, sighing.

"Gavin's not around?" Blackquill asked and blinked at the flicker of unease that passed over Edgeworth's face.

"He would not be… appropriate," Edgeworth said finally.

"I see," Blackquill said. That rather narrowed the list of possibilities, he thought.

"I must take Taka to the vet," he said apologetically. "Can you postpone the meeting?"

Edgeworth eyed him for a moment and then nodded. "Yes, if you can make it later this afternoon, there should be no issue."

"Set it for 3pm," Blackquill advised. "That should give me enough time. I'll meet you there."

"Thank you," Edgeworth said gratefully. "I won't keep you any longer." He patted Blackquill on the shoulder and then turned back down the hall. Blackquill watched him leave and Taka squawked at him.

"I know," he said. "I don't see who else it could be. But why does he want to talk to Edgeworth-dono now?"

* * *

Brandi Snapps was sullen and uncommunicative when Apollo and Klavier met her at her apartment. "I'm a victim," she sulked. "Why are you people constantly bothering me with all these questions?"

"It's just routine," Klavier assured her with a charming smile. Apollo gritted his teeth."We have one tiny piece of evidence we don't understand and it could provide a doubt in the mind of the jury. One the defence could exploit." Klavier hadn't introduced Apollo, merely called him his 'colleague' precisely so he could perform this kind of maneuver. Apollo wasn't sure it was legal or even moral but he kept his mouth shut. Sometimes watching an artist at work required you to suspend petty things like morals he supposed. And Klavier was glorious right now, like a cat poised for the strike. There was a lump in Apollo's throat that was entirely due to his excitement at getting his client out of a trial and not at all because the performance of the beautiful man in front of him.

"Well," Ms Snapps hedged, muting the TV. "In that case…" Klavier produced the duct tape and Apollo saw her eyes flare in horror and recognition before her expression went flat.

"I don't understand," she said coldly.

"This duct tape contains skin cells, from where the adhesive was stuck to someone's skin. DNA analysis revealed those skin cells to be yours." Klavier told her. Apollo watched her expression as she imperceptibly relaxed. Well, not imperceptibly to him.

"We use a lot of duct tape around the diner," she said easily. "Mostly for fixing the sign out front, which the owner is too cheap to get replaced. But we use it for other things too. In fact, on the day of the murder, I used it to repair the corner of the cake display. That must be where it came from."

"Well, Fraulein, there's a small problem with that," Klavier said smugly. "There are also traces of GHB on the tape." His face didn't fall when Brandi looked confused rather than guilty. Apollo could tell he was disappointed and his bracelet agreed. He tried not to think about how attuned he was to the rockstar's moods that he almost hadn't needed the bracelet to tell him how Klavier was feeling.

"I don't know what that is," Brandi said, unconcerned.

"It's a drug," Apollo told her. "You probably know it as the date-rape drug." Brandi's face didn't alter. Damn she was one fine actress, Apollo thought. But his ability didn't lie. She hadn't recognized the name GHB, but she knew what was in that syringe.

"Well, I'm pretty sure I didn't rape anyone at the diner," she said sarcastically. "I was too busy not getting killed."

"I don't think you understand," Klavier said smoothly. "This drug can be used to incapacitate a person. Yes for nefarious purposes like sexual assault. Or for other nefarious purposes, such as murder. Especially if our would-be murderer is small and weak and her victim is large and strong."

Snapps' face paled. "Are you suggesting…" She swayed. "I need a lawyer."

"Yes," Klavier agreed. "You do."

* * *

"I need your help," Athena announced as she walked into the temporary Wright Anything Agency office. Phoenix smiled warmly at her.

"Of course," he said. "What can I do for you?"

"This case," Athena said. "You definitely didn't see who the victim was?"

"No," Phoenix agreed. "The email from Bob Kresky said his sister was accused of killing one of her husband's former lovers, and that she was being framed for the crime."

"Her name was April May," Athena said bluntly.

Phoenix blinked at her and then his face paled. "You don't mean…"

"Yes," Athena told him. "As in Redd White's assistant. She got out of prison, and was living a relatively quiet life. Lisa and Bob Kresky are her cousins."

"This is another one for the serial killer, isn't it?" Phoenix said, leaning forward and holding his head in his hands."

"Simon thinks so, and I agree," Athena said. "So far the police seem convinced it's unconnected but I think Simon is going to try and change their minds."

"So what do you need from me?"

"It's not enough to secure an acquittal for Lisa," Athena said, one hand on her hip. "I need an alternative suspect."

"Right," Phoenix said. "And I assume there's nobody else connected to the case who seems likely?"

"There's nobody else period," Athena explained. "The only people involved so far are Lisa, who visited Miss May on the night in question, Miss May herself of course, and Eric Stevenson who is Lisa Kresky's ex-husband."

"Does he have an alibi?" Phoenix asked.

Athena nodded. "Rock solid. He was on a plane flying to Santiago at the time."

"Exotic," Phoenix commented. "OK, so that means there must be another person who knew Lisa Kresky, April May and Eric Stevenson, including their sordid history."

"And hated Miss May enough to beat her to death with a statue," Athena added. Phoenix's face paled further and she bit her tongue. Bringing that up probably hadn't been smart.

"It doesn't really fit, you know," Phoenix said after a long pause.

"What do you mean?" Athena asked.

"All the other deaths, Max Galactica, Will Powers, I-I-Iris Hawthorne, were accused of crimes that they were later acquitted of."

"I thought Iris went to prison," Athena said pointedly.

"Yes, but for accessory, not murder itself. So I could see how a murderer might think she got off lightly. But Angel Starr and April May don't fit the same pattern."

"So maybe your hypothesis of the killer's motive is just wrong," Athena said. She pondered it for a moment. "You're trying to fit the facts to your theory, instead of letting the facts take you where they lead."

Phoenix gave her a smile. "You're right," he agreed. "Sometimes I get carried away."

"OK," Athena said, grabbing a dry-erase pen and bouncing over to the whiteboard. "Let's think this through." She started writing the names of the victims on the board.

"Wait, Athena," Phoenix said. "Let's not do this now. Come over to Klavier's house tonight for dinner. Bring Simon. Then we can put all our heads together."

"OK," Athena said dubiously. "But do you think Mr Gavin has a dry-erase board."

"I'm sure we can figure it out if he doesn't," Phoenix assured her.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read and commented on my story. It so lovely to read your feedback!**

* * *

The prison guards were cold and unsmiling as Blackquill and Edgeworth passed through security.

"Here," a short man with 'Hendricks' on his shirt said as he handed them two small keys. "All metal objects, pens or other sharp items, electronic items including car key fobs, cellphones and laptops all have to be stored in a locker. No bags or briefcases either."

Miles nodded and began to place his personal effects into locker 212. Simon glared at Hendricks and then followed suit.

"Even I wasn't subject to such tight security," he commented. "What the Hell are they afraid of?"

"You'll see," Edgeworth said enigmatically. Hendricks directed them through a series of gated hallways, away from the main prison and into a wing Blackquill had believed closed.

"I thought they shut this place down," he said in a low voice.

"They did," Edgeworth said. "They reopened it just for this one prisoner."

"He's in solitary?"

"Effectively," Edgeworth said. There was a strained note to his voice, like barely suppressed anger. Blackquill looked at him in surprise, it was rare for the Chief Prosecutor to display such emotion.

Hendricks opened the last gate and escorted them into a dimly-lit hallway. The cells had open bars instead of walls, giving inmates no privacy whatsoever. CCTV cameras were placed strategically to ensure no blind spots existed anywhere. Only one cell showed any signs of life, and it was extraordinary, richly furnished and lined with books. The occupant looked up at the sound of their approach.

Blackquill had heard of Kristoph Gavin of course. The man had achieved almost mythical status amongst the other inmates at the State Penitentiary. Some believed him to have almost magical powers. He'd always scoffed at the idea, a good understanding of human psychology and a talent for manipulation could certainly seem like magic to the poorly educated. But now, stood here in front of the man, he felt a chill.

"Edgeworth," Kristoph said coolly, picking an invisible speck of lint from his immaculate pale gray suit. "How good of you to come."

"What do you want," Edgeworth said without preamble.

"Ah," Kristoph said sadly. "This is the society we live in now, no time for social niceties."

"You gave up the right to social niceties," Edgeworth snapped. "Get to the point." Blackquill stared at Edgeworth in surprise. Very few people were able to get under his skin. Wright was one who could of course, but that was in an entirely different way.

"Very well," Kristoph said. He only seemed to notice Blackquill at that moment. "I do see you brought a friend." Blackquill nodded at him but said nothing. "Tell me, Prosecutor Blackquill, do you miss the inside?"

Blackquill stiffened against his will. He did not want to give this man what he wanted.

"How did little Athena Cykes react to some of the things you did in here?" Kristoph wondered aloud. "The things you had to do to survive."

"Silence!" Blackquill barked and Edgeworth placed a restraining hand on his arm.

"For the last time, Gavin," he said evenly. "What do you want?"

"My execution is set for next week," Kristoph said blandly.

"I have no control over that," Edgeworth said crisply. "And you withdrew your last appeal, so there is nothing more that can be done. Your sentence is set. Your only hope to avoid the sentence so richly deserved, is that the Governor will show clemency. Alas, I believe she is quite firmly in favor of your execution, so I doubt you will be granted any last minute reprieve."

"No," Kristoph said icily. "I am not begging for my life. But I have a request and I hope you will grant it." Edgeworth gestured for him to continue. "I do not want my brother to witness it. Or Apollo Justice."

Edgeworth gaped at him. "Klavier's your only next of kin," he said in astonishment.

"Nevertheless, this is the only thing I ask. I shall go quietly to my end, if you will grant it."

Edgeworth narrowed his eyes at him. "And if I don't?"

"Then I will certainly restart my appeals. And perhaps I will sue the Department of Corrections while I'm at it. After all, enforced solitary confinement for a prisoner with an exemplary behavioral record is almost certainly unconstitutional. Perhaps the ACLU would be interested in my case."

"Dammit," Edgeworth swore. More appeals would definitely not be pleasant for anyone, least of all the three men at the center of Kristoph's web; Klavier, Wright and Justice.

Blackquill nudged him and he looked at him. "Ask him why," he said, so quietly Edgeworth could hardly hear him.

"Why?" he repeated and a slow, almost lascivious smile spread across Kristoph's face.

"Why?" He sauntered lazily over to the bars and gazed into Edgeworth's eyes. "He's my brother. And Justice was my protege, the closest thing I ever had to a son. I do not want them to see me like that."

"That's it?" Blackquill said in amazement.

"That's it," Kristoph confirmed. "It is not so very much to ask, is it?"

"It's your right to have whoever you want at the execution," Edgeworth told him. "Or not. So why am I really here?"

"Because I don't believe a simple prohibition will be enough to stop my brother," Kristoph said with a sigh. "So I'm asking you to help me figure out a way to make it impossible for him to attend."

Edgeworth stared at him for so long, even Blackquill started to get nervous. Then he nodded.

"Provided it is within my power, and legal, I will assist you."

"I want to petition to have my execution date moved up," Kristoph said. "But without my brother being notified of the change."

Blackquill shifted uneasily. That was the creepiest request he'd ever heard. Who on earth wants to bring their execution date closer?

"Very well," Edgeworth agreed. "As long as you have a recent psychological evaluation that says you are of sound mind, I will talk to the Warden and the Governor. Good day." With that, he turned on his heel and headed back down the hallway. Blackquill remained where he was.

"Feeling nostalgic?" Kristoph said mildly. "It's been a long time since I had any company. I could do with some… stress relief." His hands drifted to his belt and Blackquill backed away in revulsion. He swallowed hard and then went in pursuit of his boss.

* * *

Klavier noted with delight that Apollo's bicycle was propped against the house's boundary wall as he roared his motorcycle into the driveway. There were several lights on inside and he hoped that Apollo was the only one here. He was to be disappointed when Athena yanked open the door with a wide smile.

"Prosecutor Gavin!" she said delightedly.

"Athena, Athena," he said in mock exasperation. "When will you start calling me Klavier?"

She blushed prettily and from behind her Blackquill growled. Klavier laughed at him.

"Who else is here?" he asked.

"You're the last to arrive," Athena told him. "There's pizza on it's way and Mr Edgeworth brought beer and wine."

Klavier climbed off his bike and strode into the house. Everyone was sprawled on the enormous couches in the living room except for Wright, who was leaning against the wall and looking uncomfortable.

"Wright," he said, nodding to the man.

"Phoenix," the attorney corrected him. "Only Edgeworth calls me Wright."

From anyone else that might have sounded friendly, with Edgeworth the one being held at arms length. Klavier knew that was not the case here.

"Phoenix," he said easily. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," he said. He looked at Klavier for a moment, and there was a hard look in his eyes. "You and Apollo are spending a lot of time together," he observed. All of Klavier's alarm bells started ringing.

"Ja, we have worked a number of cases," he said cautiously. Phoenix's eyes narrowed. "And I suppose we have seen each other outside of work too."

"Right," Phoenix said.

"Is there a specific concern you wish to address?" Klavier asked him.

"Apollo grew up in the care system," Phoenix said. "Children's homes, the occasional short term fostering that never turned into an adoption. So, I'm the closest thing he has to a parent."

"I see," Klavier said, who didn't.

"I don't think you do," Phoenix continued. "I can't tell Apollo who his friends should or shouldn't be. But I don't care to see him being toyed with."

"Toyed with?" Klavier repeated in confusion. "I'm not sure I understand you."

Phoenix sighed and was clearly resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Look, you're an international rock star, and a stellar prosecutor. You're good-looking, wealthy and I imagine you think an idle flirtation with Apollo is just a bit of fun. I'm here to tell you to back off. Don't make him another one of your conquests. Because when you've enjoyed yourself and moved on to the next one, I'm the one who'll have to pick up the pieces. I'm the one who'll have to deal with the low self-esteem and the doubts and the pain you'll inflict."

Klavier just stared at him, appalled and astonished. "Herr Wright, I uh… I think there's been some kind of misunderstanding."

"Of what?" Phoenix asked bluntly. "Of your behavior? Or your intentions?"

"Nein," Klavier choked. "Of Apollo's."

Now it was Phoenix's turn to look surprised. "How so?"

"I don't believe Apollo has any kind of interest in me," Klavier told him. "Not in the way you suggest. We're friends, and I'm grateful for his friendship. But there's nothing more to it than that."

"Really," Phoenix said, folding his arms across his chest. "And the flirting?"

"I did not say that I did not have an interest in him," Klavier said defensively. "But if you must know, I flirt with him because I enjoy seeing him flustered and you're right, that's a lot of fun. But it's just teasing. If I thought he…" Klavier broke off, an uncharacteristic flush spreading across his face. "I have no such hopes in that direction," he finished lamely.

He couldn't decipher the look on Phoenix's face. The attorney scrutinized him for a few, agonizing minutes and it was all he could do not to fidget under that steady gaze.

"Huh," he said finally.

"What does this mean, huh?" Klavier asked nervously.

"I apologize," Phoenix said. "I apparently got the wrong end of the stick. I thought you were attempting to seduce Apollo, that he'd be just another notch on your bed frame. I was wrong, and I'm sorry."

"Ja, well, I'm frequently misunderstood," Klavier said casually, to cover his confusion.

"I wonder," Phoenix said. "Maybe the person I should have been talking with was Apollo all along." Now utterly baffled, Klavier opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment Edgeworth appeared with the pizzas and the moment was gone.

* * *

After eating, Athena had sprung to her feet and announced her plan to brainstorm out the puzzle of the serial killer. Trucy sulked when Phoenix ordered her to bed, but there was no way he was having her take part in this discussion. Klavier dutifully fetched a dry-erase board the band had used for sketching out lyrics, snatches of riffs or planning set lists and placed it against one wall.

"OK," Athena said, writing the names of each of the victims and their cause of death on the board. "Mr Wright said he thought the victims were being targeted because the killer thought they had escaped justice. And for the first three victims, that makes sense. All three were accused of murder and acquitted. But Angel Starr and April May don't fit that pattern."

"Maybe they're not part of the case then," Apollo said, playing devil's advocate.

"If it was only one of them, then I'd agree with you," Athena replied. "We could just chalk it up to a horrible coincidence. But two individuals, both of whom with connections to Mr Wright, but not each other, both murdered within weeks of each other? That stretches coincidence to breaking point."

"Agreed," Simon said laconically.

"So, if the theory doesn't fit the facts, then assuming the facts aren't in question, we must modify our theory."

"That's sound," Edgeworth approved.

"So," Athena said, on a roll now. "If the killer isn't targeting people he thinks evaded justice, then how is he choosing his victims?"

"Or she," Apollo said.

"Or she," Athena agreed. "Given Apollo and Klavier's theory that the killer is using intermediaries to commit his or her crimes, there's no reason to suppose the killer is a man."

"I thought perhaps it might be simply hurting people that Wright had helped just to inflict pain," Edgeworth said. "But again, that doesn't explain April May or Angel Starr."

"What if Angel Starr and April May are outliers because they are outliers," Klavier said suddenly. Everyone turned to look at him, it was the first thing he'd said all evening.

"Helpful," Simon grunted. "Explain yourself."

"Angel Starr was a terrific detective," Klavier said. "Her disgrace and departure from the LAPD was a terrible shock at the time. She was in witness protection. What would cause her to return to LA, and run the risk of being found by the Joe Darke groupies who'd threatened her life?"

"I don't know," Edgeworth agreed. "Something big."

"And what if April May wasn't meant to be a victim, maybe she was supposed to be one of the puppets?"

"Well, in that case, who would the original intended victim be?" Phoenix objected.

"Isn't it obvious?" Klavier said. "Redd White."

"Redd White went to prison," Phoenix told him.

"Yes," Klavier agreed. "Where he served less than three years. For murder, that's lenient, don't you think?"

"I didn't know that," Phoenix said, eyes wide.

"He had the ear of the chief of police, the then governor of California, several congressmen and at least one senator," Edgeworth said tiredly. "He bargained his sentence down to ten years, I suspect blackmailed actually, then got out on good behavior during one of those occasional purges where they try to reduce the prison population to ease overcrowding."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Phoenix said, sounding betrayed.

"What difference would it have made?" Edgeworth said. "You couldn't have done anything about it. All it would have done is cause you pain. He was hit with a restraining order which means he wasn't supposed to come within 100 miles of you."

"A restraining order?" Phoenix said faintly.

"Yes. I had it filed on your behalf. I had serious concerns that White harbored ill-will towards you. I was able to convince the judge that your life was in danger."

"You should have told me," Phoenix said angrily. "You had no right to make decisions for me like that."

"If I had my time again, I would," Edgeworth agreed. "I'm sorry, Wright. It was arrogant and high-handed of me. But it was while you were disbarred, I was in Germany and I needed to move quickly."

The room was silent. Simon got up and stared at the board.

"So if Redd White was the intended victim, and April May set up to kill him, that would fit the original hypothesis, that the killer is targeting people he or she thinks escaped their due punishment. White turns the tables on May for whatever reason and beats her to death. An M.O. he definitely has form on. And we're saying Angel Starr only made herself a target because she was investigating the killer?"

"Or, the killer thinks her frame-up job on Joe Darke warranted a harsher punishment than she received." Phoenix suggested.

Simon shook his head. "That still doesn't explain what she was doing here in Los Angeles."

"It's you," Phoenix said to Edgeworth, who blinked. "The serial killer isn't targeting me. He's targeting you."

"Why do you say that?" Simon pounced.

"Angel Starr hates prosecutors. Despises them. What would convince her to come out of hiding? A chance to get her revenge on one her most hated foes." Phoenix said. "Miles, it has to be you."

"But why would the killer want to lure her here, only to kill her? Surely that idea only makes sense if Angel Starr was meant to be one of the puppets?" Klavier said.

Phoenix shook his head in frustration. "I know. But I feel like I'm on to something here."

"Let's call it a night," Edgeworth suggested. "It's late and we're all tired."

* * *

Phoenix cornered Miles in the kitchen as the prosecutor fixed himself a glass of water.

"What are you up to, Miles?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Miles said easily.

"Inviting Klavier Gavin to stay here with us. It was unnecessary and you know it," Phoenix hissed.

"It's his house," Miles pointed out. "I could hardly object. If you're worried about Trucy-"

"You damn well know it's not Trucy I'm worried about." Phoenix folded his arms and stared at his friend.

"Apollo," Miles said. Phoenix nodded. "He's an adult, Wright."

"Of course," Phoenix agreed. "And I know I'm biased against Gavins as well. I just don't want Apollo getting hurt."

"I think you're barking up the wrong tree," Miles said. "You're seeing what Klavier wants you to see rather than the truth."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Phoenix asked, an edge entering his voice.

"The rock star persona? Even his prosecutor persona? It's an act. It's not who he is, it's a facade to protect the real Klavier Gavin from a very cruel world."

"Cruel world?" Phoenix said derisively, "Oh, I'm sure being an international music sensation must be very unpleasant."

"Wright, this is unworthy of you," Miles said. "Klavier lost his parents when he was thirteen. He was raised by his brother. Kristoph was a cold and indifferent guardian but he was Klavier's whole world. And you and Justice sent him to Death Row."

"He's a murderer!" Phoenix gasped.

"I did not say it was undeserved. But Klavier is adrift. His adored brother turned out to be a monster. He was responsible destroying the career of a famous attorney, who turned out to be entirely innocent. The depths of Klavier's self-loathing are something to behold. I have worked patiently and diligently to hold him back from the brink. But I am neither a warm person nor someone Klavier can make a real connection with. Apollo, on the other hand, is close to Klavier in age and they trust each other."

"You're not selling this to me," Phoenix said grumpily. "You're painting a picture of someone who is remarkably damaged."

"Perhaps," Miles said. "But Apollo is the second-most loyal and trustworthy person I know. Klavier needs people in his life he can trust. Apollo will never betray him, sell his secrets to the gutter press or use him for his wealth and connections. For someone like Klavier, that's a rare and precious thing."

"All right, I'll stop running interference," Phoenix grumbled. A thought struck him. "Hey! What did you mean by the second-most trustworthy? Who's the first?"

Miles leaned forward and grasped his shoulder. "You, of course," he said into Phoenix's ear. Warmth spread across Phoenix's cheeks. "Goodnight, Wright."

* * *

Something was really eating at Klavier tonight, Apollo thought. The rock star had barely touched any of the food, and had been nursing the same beer for an hour. Simon and Athena had said goodnight to everyone and headed off to bed twenty minutes ago. Mr Wright and Mr Edgeworth were in the kitchen, talking quietly. Every so often, one of them would look over at him or at Klavier. Klavier didn't seem to notice, he just stared sightlessly at his fingers.

"Klavier?" he prompted gently.

"Ja," the prosecutor responded absently.

"Are you… OK?" Apollo asked. "You've been very quiet tonight."

Klavier looked up at him, his face curiously blank. "This case is getting to me, I think."

"OK," Apollo said. "Well, you know, if you need to talk…"

Klavier gave him a weak smile. "Thank you," he said simply. "I'm sorry, I think I need to go to bed." He rose and slipped out of the room. Apollo watched him leave.

Mr Edgeworth gripped Mr Wright's shoulder and said something in his ear. There was a dull flush across Mr Wright's cheeks. Apollo wondered what on earth the Chief Prosecutor could have said to cause such a reaction. Then Mr Edgeworth headed down the hall and Mr Wright came back into the living room.

"Time for bed, I think," he said.

"Yeah," Apollo agreed. He got up and noticed Mr Wright was watching him. "Is everything all right?"

"You and Klavier Gavin," Mr Wright said suddenly. Apollo squirmed. "What's the deal?"

"I don't know what you mean," Apollo said quickly. "We work well together in court. And we're friends. I think."

"Nothing else?" Mr Wright pressed and Apollo found himself blushing.

"N-N-No," he denied. Mr Wright raised one eyebrow and Apollo knew he was now as crimson as his suit. "It's nothing. A stupid crush. I don't want him to know, he'll only tease me endlessly about it. Anyway, I think he's in love with someone else."

Mr Wright was smiling at him, like he'd said something vastly amusing. "Who?"

"Ema Skye," Apollo blurted out. His throat hurt, like he'd yelled it at full volume.

"Ema Skye," Mr Wright repeated disbelievingly. "He doesn't strike me as a masochist."

"Anyone can suffer from unrequited love," Apollo said defensively. "The heart wants what it wants. Sometimes it's someone inappropriate."

"True," Mr Wright said bitterly. The tone shocked Apollo, it spoke of a wealth of experience of that particular pain. He regarded Apollo steadily. "Are you suffering from unrequited love, Apollo?"

Apollo couldn't breathe. Spots appeared in front on his eyes. "No," he managed. "I told you, it's just a stupid crush. Nothing more. He's not interested in me and he never will be. Why would he, he can have anyone he wants?"

"Except, according to you, Ema Skye," Mr Wright pointed out.

"Well OK, yeah. But that's not the point. I'm nothing. Nobody. Just an underpaid, overworked junior attorney. I'm not glamorous or interesting or even all that good-looking." Apollo couldn't look at Mr Wright any longer and dropped his gaze to the floor.

"You sell yourself far too short," Mr Wright said, squeezing his shoulder. "I've told you this before. And if Klavier Gavin can't see all your good qualities, then he's not worthy of your love anyway."

"Please stop talking like that," Apollo begged. "I told you, I'm not… in… love… with…" he broke off, unable to finish the sentence he had the horrible feeling was an outright lie.

"OK," Mr Wright said, relenting. "I've tortured you enough. Just think about what you're doing, Apollo. I've seen you two together. I don't want you getting hurt."

"He flirts with everyone," Apollo said grumpily. "I wouldn't read anything into it."

"Maybe," Mr Wright said. "But maybe you're giving off the wrong signals too."

Apollo gaped at him. "What do you mean?"

"Just think about what I've said," Mr Wright said enigmatically.


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, Apollo rose to find Athena and Simon eating breakfast and giggling over something on Athena's phone. He had to rub his eyes hard at the sight of the surly prosecutor chortling like a school boy. He slouched over to the coffee machine and stared at it. It looked like something from the Space Center.

"Do you know how to work this thing?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Simon does," Athena told him. Simon grunted and got to his feet. He pressed a hidden button to reveal the place where the coffee pod went and went through the motions of showing Apollo how it worked.

"Thanks," Apollo told him. Simon nodded at him. "Hey, how's Taka? I heard she was sick."

"She stayed overnight at the animal hospital," Simon said gruffly. "The vet thinks she was poisoned."

"Poisoned!" Apollo yelped.

Simon breathed in and out slowly, clearly reining in his infamous temper. "Yes," he said thinly. "Luckily, she hadn't consumed a lot and the poison in question is not as toxic to birds as it is to mammals."

"What was it?" Apollo asked.

"Atroquinine." Simon told him. Apollo staggered back against the kitchen counter. Cold sweat ran down his back.

"Apollo?" Athena said in concern. She jumped up and grabbed him by the arm. "Apollo! Breathe!"

"W-W-Where did it come from?" Apollo stuttered.

"I don't know," Simon said. "I've had her food and water tested and they both came back negative."

"Who would even want to poison Taka," Athena said. "That's what I don't understand."

"Could it be an accident?" Apollo asked. "Somebody poisoned something in your office expecting to kill you and Taka was exposed by accident?"

"I don't make a habit of feeding scraps to my hawk," Simon said witheringly.

"No, no, don't you see? It doesn't have to be food. Just something you touched before handling her food. The traces of poison on your fingers might be enough to make her sick. The poisoner was just unlucky that you must have washed your hands before touching any of your own food."

Simon stared at him, the cogs clearly turning in his mind.

"It's possible," he conceded. "But I think there's still something missing. Who would want to kill me? Plenty of people, perhaps, but poison? No, my enemies would stab me or shoot me."

"Don't say things like that, Simon," Athena protested.

"What it you weren't the target?" Apollo said. "What if you touched something intended for someone else?"

"That would make more sense," Athena agreed. "We talked last night about Mr Edgeworth being the target. What if there was something in his apartment that the killer poisoned when he was stealing the DVD?"

"I've never been to his apartment," Simon pointed out. Athena slumped in her seat.

"Oh. Well that blows that idea out of the water."

"I still think we should check," Apollo said. "That stuff is potent, maybe Mr Edgeworth touched it, then shook your hand or something."

"I'll call Skye-san," Simon said. "Get her to run a poison sweep at the apartment."

"And his office," Athena said. "Better safe than sorry."

Simon pulled out his phone and dialed Ema. Apollo gave Athena an uncertain look.

"Have you seen Mr Wright?" he asked.

"He went out with Mr Edgeworth this morning," Athena told him. "A meeting with the Governor."

"On a Saturday?" Apollo said, his forehead creasing.

Athena shrugged. "That's what they said."

"And uh...Trucy?"

"She's meeting a friend downtown. Going to that magic supply shop she likes."

"Oh. Good. You uh, got any plans?"

"Simon and I are going to go pick up Taka and then bring her back here. We'll be gone a couple of hours." She gave him a significant look, but he had no idea what it meant. When he looked puzzled, she added. "I don't think Klavier has any plans."

"Oh!" Apollo said quickly. "I'm sure he has plenty of things to do."

"Nein," Klavier said from behind him and he jumped. "My schedule is quite clear. I have everything I need for court on Monday."

"Oh, well, I should really go to the office," Apollo said suddenly. "I still have preparation to do."

"Ah, gut, then I will give you a ride," Klavier said smoothly. "I just remembered I need to pick up some papers from my office."

"No, it's OK, I…"

"Nonsense," Klavier said. "It makes no sense for you to ride the bus when I am going the same way. I'll meet you outside in half an hour." He sauntered out of the kitchen and Apollo slumped down in his seat.

"Why does nobody listen to me?" he complained.

"We do listen," Athena told him brightly. "We just ignore you when you're being stupid."

* * *

"All right," Phoenix said. "Enough of the secrecy. Why are we going to see the Governor? It's a six hour drive!"

"We're not going to Sacramento," Miles assured him. "Governor Kaling in here in LA this week for the Global Water Summit which starts tomorrow. She agreed to meet us for brunch."

"Brunch?" Phoenix said, perplexed. "OK, but why?"

Miles sighed and swung his car into the parking lot of a fancy downtown hotel.

"Kristoph Gavin."

Phoenix gasped, a sense of betrayal stinging his eyes. "Miles, no! Please tell me we're not here to plead for clemency?"

The look Miles gave him could have frozen lava. "Of course not. Please, Wright. I need you here, but I can't tell you what this is about."

The maitre d' showed them into a private room and offered them tea and coffee. Phoenix perused the menu, biting his lip and trying to keep his temper under control. Damn Miles and his arrogance. He hated being left in the dark and Miles knew it. The door opened again to reveal Governor Kaling, flanked by two anonymous men in dark suits.

"Miles, darling," the Governor said, holding out both hands. Miles kissed her dutifully on both cheeks.

"And this is my friend and associate, Phoenix Wright," he introduced.

"Of course it is," Kaling said, kissing Phoenix's cheeks like he was an old friend. The waiter appeared and set the coffee on the table and then took their food orders. Once he had left, Kaling turned to the two lawyers.

"So, Miles, what can I do for you?" she said. "You were very circumspect on the phone."

"Governor, Kristoph Gavin's execution is scheduled for Thursday," Miles started. Kaling cut him off.

"Miles, how many times must I ask you to call me Mindy? And I hope you're not here to beg for Mr Gavin's life? The entire Dark Age of the Law can be laid at that man's feet. Legal reform was a central piece of my election campaign. Granting a reprieve would undo years of hard work."

"Mindy," Miles said quellingly. She subsided. "I'm not here to ask for clemency. Certainly not with Wright here." She frowned at him. "Gavin has asked for his execution date to be moved up, in secret, so that his brother and his protege are excluded from witnessing it."

"Ridiculous!" Kaling exclaimed. "Why on earth should I grant such a bizarre request? The law says Gavin can invite or exclude whomever he chooses, outside of the legal witnesses required by law."

"Klavier Gavin is an intelligent and resourceful man. Kristoph fears he will manage to get around whatever restrictions we place on him."

Phoenix was staring at Miles while this conversation unfolded. He felt dizzy, a buzzing sound in his ears making his head hurt.

"...don't you think, Wright?"

Phoenix blinked in confusion. "What?"

"Keeping Klavier Gavin and Apollo Justice away from Kristoph Gavin's execution is probably in their best interests too, don't you think?" Miles repeated with a sigh.

"Oh! Well, I don't know. Kristoph _is_ his only family," Phoenix said. "I don't know that we have the right to try and prevent him from attending."

"I have to say, I agree with your friend," Kaling said. "This is most irregular, Miles."

"I know," Miles said. "But the law says I have to bring the request to you."

"Of course," she agreed. "But this is hardly the usual channels. Why didn't you submit a formal request through my office...oh! Because that request would show up in the Prosecutor's Office database and you're worried Klavier Gavin would see it."

"Exactly," Miles said. "And on top of that, those formal requests are a matter of public record and it's entirely possible an enterprising journalist might have alerts set up for names like Kristoph Gavin's."

"So you're suggesting we… delay the paperwork just long enough to do the deed." Kaling said, her mouth pursed with distaste. There was a tap at the door and the waiter returned with their food. Kaling looked down at her omelet with reluctance.

"It's not ideal," Miles said. "But I don't know what else to suggest."

"How about you submit the request, and the Governor vetos it," Phoenix said acidly, stabbing his waffle like it had personally offended him.

"Because Gavin has threatened not only to submit a new appeal but also to sue the State of California for violating his constitutional rights, by subjecting him to solitary confinement."

"Prisoners are placed in solitary all the time," Phoenix objected.

"Yes," Miles agreed. "But not without justification. Gavin has never been allowed to mix with any other prisoners despite exemplary behavior. A constitutional challenge could have legs."

"Dammit," Phoenix swore.

"My feelings exactly," Kaling said. "All right. Here's how we'll do it. The summit doesn't start until noon tomorrow. I'll pay a surprise visit to the penitentiary, and do the paperwork with Warden Maldonaldo. He'll mail the paperwork to my office in Sacramento, where it will languish in my in-tray until I return next week. My assistant won't open anything not marked urgent, and since I will have already seen this paperwork, it isn't urgent. In the meantime, the execution date will be moved, as I will have signed the necessary form and we're all legal and mostly above board."

"The press will raise a stink about it," Phoenix predicted.

"They're the press," Kaling told him. "That's what they do."

* * *

True to his word, Klavier was outside the house when Apollo opened the door. Already astride his hog, he looked magnificent. Stop that, he told himself. You're no better than Trucy, mooning over an unavailable man.

"Forehead," Klavier said expansively. "Are you ready to rock?" He held out a helmet and Apollo took it. Their fingers brushed and the slight contact sent a rush of sensation down his arms. He gulped and climbed on the back of the motorcycle.

"You're going to have to hold on to me," Klavier told him. Apollo hesitated and then wrapped his arms around Klavier's trim waist. "Gut! Ja, here we go!" They roared out of the drive and down the street.

The feeling of Klavier pressed against his stomach, and his arm wrapped around the blond, was an intimacy Apollo was not prepared for. The vibrations of the powerful engine thrummed through his body and the overall combination of sensations was enough to render him painfully and undeniably aroused. When Klavier finally pulled into the underground parking lot with a flourish, Apollo sat there, unable to move.

"I cannot get off until you do, Forehead," Klavier said, the smirk evident in his voice.

"Oh!" Apollo exclaimed. He climbed uncomfortably off the back of the infernal machine and limped to the door.

"Are you quite well?" Klavier said, peering at him.

"YES!" Apollo bellowed, and Klavier smirked. "My leg went to sleep, that's all." It was a pathetic lie, but for whatever reason, the prosecutor seemed to take it at face value.

"Ah, yes, that can happen when you ride pinion," he said. "Just walk it off, you'll be fine."

They entered the elevator together. "Do you know why Mr Wright and Mr Edgeworth are meeting with the Governor today?" Apollo asked, more to make conversation than any real curiosity.

"No," Klavier admitted. "But she is in town, and Edgeworth's reforms are meeting with some resistance from… certain quarters."

"OK," Apollo said. "It just seemed sudden."

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about," Klavier said. The elevator doors opened and they both stepped out. "Call me when you're planning to leave," the blond told him.

"OK," Apollo said and turned hurriedly down the hall. He was being rude, but what else could he do?

* * *

Wright was furious, angrier than Miles had ever seen him.

"I can't believe you, Miles!" he yelled once they were inside his car. "Why would you spring that on me?"

"I needed Mindy to think her way through this and see it was the only possible course of action. If I'd told you what was going on ahead of time, she'd have smelled a set up. I knew how you'd react, in fact I was relying on it. Your moral sense was what I needed to make sure she did the right thing."

"I dislike being manipulated," Wright said coldly. "You know that."

"I know," Miles agreed. "And I'm sorry. But it was the only way."

Wright folded his arms over his chest and sulked. Miles resisted the urge to smile, Wright was so cute when he was annoyed. He suppressed that thought and started the engine.

"What can I do to make it up to you?" he asked.

"You're going to ask me to keep this a secret, aren't you?" Wright said perceptively.

"Of course," Miles told him.

"Fine. Then I want something in return."

Miles regarded him uncomfortably. "Anything."

"Come see Trucy perform," Wright said. "For some reason she thinks the world of you and you always turn down our invitations. Well, you're not getting out of it this time. Make my daughter happy and I'll forgive you."

Miles gaped at him in pure astonishment. "You really are the most incredible man," he said breathlessly. "You could have asked for anything, and you ask for the easiest thing for me to give. It's not even for you, it's for someone you love."

"Well," Phoenix said, shifting in his seat. "It was the only thing I could think of."

"And that's part of why I l-like you," Miles blurted. "It's why we're friends." Phoenix grinned at him suddenly and it was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud.

"All right, there's no need to lay it on so thick," he said, amused. "I've forgiven you. But you better show up at the Wonder Bar tomorrow night or there'll be hell to pay."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Miles promised.

* * *

Taka was much improved and seeing her back to her old self put a broad smile on Simon's face. Athena hugged him and the birdcage both, much to Taka's irritation.

"Let's go," she said. "She'll need time to settle in before everyone gets home this evening."

"Mr Blackquill?" A young woman in a white coat came out of the back office just as they were leaving. "A word, please?"

Simon exchanged a look with Athena and then handed Taka's cage to her. He followed the woman into a small, windowless office with beige walls and a vague scent of cat urine.

"Mr Blackquill, I'm Dr Singh. You need to know I have to report Taka's poisoning to the authorities. Atroquinine is a highly restricted substance and accidental poisonings such as this carry a legal obligation to report."

"I understand," Simon said. "I actually have to report it myself anyway. I believe Taka was accidentally exposed during the commission of a crime."

"I see," Dr Singh said. "So you don't have a stock of the poison yourself."

"Good grief, no!" Simon said. "I don't approve of poison."

" _I_ don't approve of murder, Mr Blackquill," Dr Singh said coolly. "If you are innocent, then I apologize. But I have never seen a case of a pet accidentally poisoned by an agent like atroquinine. You are exceptionally lucky. If I had not noticed smears of the poison on Taka's beak glowing under the UV light I used to examine her eyes, I would never have thought to test for it."

"Believe me, Dr Singh. If I wanted someone dead, I have a very sharp sword. I see no reason to resort to cowardly methods like poison. Make no mistake, this was an attempted murder. I just don't know who the intended victim was." Simon turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.

Athena could see how angry Simon was as he strode across the parking lot, his hair streaming behind him.

"What was that all about?" she asked.

"Insufferable woman thought I'd poisoned my own bird," Simon spat.

"She's just doing her job," Athena said gently. "Her first concern is the animal's welfare, that's all."

"Hmm," Simon said. His phone buzzed and he answered it.

"Blackquill."

Athena couldn't hear the other side of the conversation but the look on Simon's face was horrified. He hung up.

"Slight detour," he announced. "Ema needs to see us."

* * *

There was a sharp rap at Klavier's door.

"Come in, Forehead, there's no need to stand on cerem- oh it's you Blackquill."

"Gavin-san," Blackquill said and then stepped aside to let Athena and Ema enter.

"Fraulein Athena," Klavier said. "And the fraulein detective, how charming."

"Can it, fop," Ema said without heat. "Where's Apollo?"

"In his office, I would think," Klavier told her. Athena turned and left the room. "What's all this about?"

"Let's wait until Apollo gets here," Ema said. "I don't like having to repeat myself."

There was an uncomfortable silence while they waited for Athena to come back with Apollo. When they returned, Ema folded her arms and regarded them all sternly.

"Prosecutor Blackquill asked me to quietly investigate the poisoning of his hawk, Taka." Klavier paled and sat down heavily on the edge of his desk. Apollo inched closer to him. "He asked me to scan the apartment and office of the Chief Prosecutor, however in light of other events I felt it necessary to check all the offices here. That plan was brought to an abrupt end by the discovery I made in Winston Payne's office. Winston Payne is dead. My superiors have been notified and we're attempting to get hold of Mr Edgeworth. But for the time being this building is on lockdown."

"How did he die?" Klavier said.

"Acute atroquinine poisoning, is my scientific opinion," Ema told him. "There were traces around his mouth that glowed under UV light. I've sent sample off for testing and of course the medical examiner has to do his examination and an autopsy. But everything I've seen points to it."

Klavier's hands were shaking. Apollo finally reached him and touched his arm. Klavier looked at him, his eyes wide.

"Who's securing the scene?" Blackquill was saying.

"Officer Krige," Ema said. "And Chief Gumshoe is on his way."

"Klavier?" Apollo said. Klavier's head felt stuffed with sand. "Athena, I think he's going into shock."

"Klavier?" she repeated, and came to stand in front of him. "Klavier, look at me." He turned his head slowly, it was so much effort just to move even a tiny bit. "Klavier, talk to me."

"A-a-atro-" he managed.

"You need to take him home," Athena told Apollo. "He needs somewhere quiet and comfortable. Don't leave him on his own."

"We came here on his hog," Apollo told her.

"Leave it here," Ema said. "I'll drive you both home."

"No," Blackquill said. "You're needed here. Athena, why don't you take them back to Gavin-san's house and then come back here. I'll keep trying to raise Edgeworth-dono."

"What part of on lockdown don't you understand?" Ema said. "If I escort Klavier and Apollo home that's one thing. If Athena does it, that's something else."  
"It's no problem, pal," a new voice said. "Take them home. I'll take care of this." Chief Gumshoe entered the room and his face was solemn. It looked wrong somehow.

"Yes, sir," Ema said. "Thank you, Chief."


	8. Chapter 8

Klavier allowed himself to be shepherded out of his office and down to Ema's very untidy Prius. Apollo shoved him in the back seat and climbed in beside him. Klavier curled into a ball against the door and the attorney regarded him with alarm.

"Why can't I escape?" Klavier said softly. Apollo scooted closer so he could hear. "Mein bruder, damn it all, Apollo."

Apollo looked warily at him and then slid one arm across Klavier's shoulders and hugged him tightly. He half expected Klavier to shove him away, but instead the blond plastered himself against the attorney's body and tucked his head into the crook of his neck. He could feel the warm huffs of breath across his skin.

Klavier had been surprised when Apollo had tentatively pulled him into a hug. But he wasn't going to turn it down. He slid along the seat to achieve maximum contact between his body and Apollo's and then hid his face against the warm skin of the attorney's neck. Apollo smelled like sandalwood and something slightly spicy he couldn't name. It was a soothing scent and he breathed it in deeply. He could feel the smaller man's heartbeat under his fingers where they rested on his chest. It was beating fast, no doubt Apollo was as upset by this turn of events as he was.

Ema's gaze flicked up to the rear view mirror and her eyebrows rose at the way the two men were wrapped around each other in her back seat. Apollo met her questioning gaze with a challenging one, daring her to say anything. She kept her mouth shut. She could torment Klavier about it another day.

"We're here," she announced as she pulled into the drive. "Do you need help getting him into the house?"

Apollo shook his head. "No, just give me hand to help him out of the car. We should be OK after that."

But Klavier was able to lever himself out of the tiny vehicle and he even staggered to the front door mostly under his own steam. Apollo raised a hand to Ema in farewell and then concentrated on finding Klavier's keys.

"Where are they?" he muttered. When Klavier didn't answer he looked up to see the blond gazing down at him.

"Front pocket," Klavier said. He dug his hand into his jeans and pulled out the key chain. Apollo snatched it and quickly unlocked the door. He guided Klavier into the house, turned and locked the door behind him and then followed the shuffling prosecutor to his room.

Klavier immediately collapsed onto the bed. Apollo sighed and set to work removing his boots.

"I don't normally let people undress me," Klavier said softly.

"Really?" Apollo said politely but disbelievingly.

"Really. It's too… personal." Klavier said.

"What about when you uh… bring home a date?" Apollo asked awkwardly. Shit, why the hell couldn't he keep his mouth shut?

"Not even then," Klavier said. Apollo finally unravelled the knot of laces and pulled off his left boot. "And anyway, the last time I did that was… a long time ago."

Apollo tried to concentrate on Klavier's right boot, which was even more badly tangled than the left.

"You don't believe me," Klavier said.

"No," Apollo said mildly. "I mean, I'm not calling you a liar. Just forgetful, I guess." The right boot finally gave up and he yanked it off Klavier's foot with a triumphant yell. He stood up. Klavier rolled over on the bed to face the wall. Apollo sighed and sat down next to him.

"You can't sleep in your clothes," he said.

"I can. And I have before," Klavier told him.

"Come on," Apollo said. Klavier rolled back towards him dutifully and Apollo began unbuttoning his shirt. Klavier's skin was warm and smooth and Apollo's hands were shaking. This was a terrible idea. He should have let Klavier keep his clothes on. Klavier grabbed his wrist and Apollo stopped, staring into Klavier's ridiculously blue eyes.

"It's OK," Klavier said. "I understand. It's fine, leave it. I'll do the rest."

Apollo snatched his hand back like it was on fire. "Uh, OK." he said. "Do you want a drink or something?"

"No," Klavier said. "Just leave me alone."

Apollo fled. He wasn't proud of it, and as soon as he reached the kitchen, he was kicking himself. What the hell was wrong with him? Klavier was his friend and he needed help, and Apollo was behaving like some kind of creep. And Klavier had noticed and instead of calling him out like he deserved, had only asked to be left in peace. He took a deep breath. He was better than this. So what if Klavier found out about his crush? Who cares if he teased Apollo about it later? Klavier was his friend and Athena had told him not to leave him on his own. So he was going to act like a grown-up, suck it up and be there for his friend.

He poured water from the fridge dispenser into two glasses, took a deep breath and headed back down the hall. He tapped lightly at Klavier's door and then nudged it open with his elbow. Klavier had removed his jeans and his shirt, and was lying on the bed in a t-shirt and shorts. Apollo swallowed and then cleared his throat.

"I brought you some water," he said hesitantly.

Klavier threw one arm across his eyes. "You don't have to do this," he said. "I'll be OK."

"No," Apollo said. "I'm your friend and you need help. Unless there's someone else you want me to call?"

"Nein, nein, there's nobody else. None of the other band members are talking to me these days," Klavier told him. "You're the only friend I have left."

"Surely that's not true," Apollo objected. "Someone like you must have lots of friends."

"Someone like me?" Klavier said bitterly. "Being a rock star doesn't bring you friends. People always want a piece of you - your money, your fame, being seen with you on the pages of a tabloid. They don't even want you, they want the image. You're not allowed to have feelings, or any kind of internal life."

"I'm sorry," Apollo said.

"Why?" Klavier replied. "It's not your fault, Herr Forehead. In fact, you're one of the few people who treats me like an actual person instead of a sexual fantasy." Apollo gulped guiltily. "It's my own fault of course, I don't make it easy for anyone to get close." Klavier sat up and took the water, sipping at it and keeping his gaze downwards.

"You gave us a bit of a scare back at the office," Apollo said after a moment.

"It was a shock," Klavier admitted. "I overreacted. Ich entschuldige mich." Apollo blinked. "I apologize for scaring you."

"It's OK. I felt the same way," Apollo told him. "I mean, it's not like every atroquinine poisoning has to be about Kristoph. But it's a rare enough poison that when I heard about it, he's the first thing that came to mind."

"Ach, let's not talk about him," Klavier said. "It's hard enough trying to deal with… Thursday."

"What's happening on Thursday?" Apollo asked. Klavier's face paled again and he instinctively reached out and grasped the rock star's hand.

"You haven't been told?" Klavier said with surprise. "That's when they've set the date for Kristoph's… execution."

Apollo inhaled sharply. "I thought he was still working through the appeals process."

"Nein, he dropped his last appeal. Unless the governor intervenes…" Klavier trailed off, and stared at Apollo's hand wrapped around his own.

"Has he appealed to her? Have you?"

"As far as I know, he has not. And I have not. Must we speak of this now?" Klavier complained.

"Mr Wright and Mr Edgeworth went to meet with the governor this morning," Apollo pointed out. "That can't be a coincidence."

"If Kristoph had applied for clemency, Edgeworth would have to put the request through the main prosecutorial database and I'd get a notification. I have not seen anything like that." Klavier told him. "I think we are seeing connections where they do not exist."

"OK," Apollo said. "Let me ask you one more thing and then I'll drop it."

"Anything," Klavier said.

"Are you planning to attend?"

Klavier froze and Apollo cursed his lack of tact. After a moment of stroking his thumb up and down the juncture between Apollo's thumb and forefinger, he looked up. His blue eyes shimmered. "How can I not go?" he said.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Apollo offered. There was nothing he want to do less, but if Klavier needed his support then he would be there for him.

"It is not necessary," Klaver declined.

"That's not what I asked," Apollo said. "I asked if you wanted me to come."

Klavier looked at him sorrowfully. "It is asking a lot of you, Apollo," he said. Apollo warmed to the sound of Klavier using his name. "You were badly hurt by mein bruder and I can- It is too much for me to ask this of you."

Apollo squeezed his hand. "It's not. Who knows, maybe I'll even get some closure of my own?"

Klavier gazed at him and then his free hand came up and cupped Apollo's jaw. He leaned forward and the attorney's breath stuttered. Klavier kissed him softly on one cheek and then leaned back. Apollo's lips parted in surprise and Klavier's eyes fixed on his mouth. Apollo had a strange sense of unreality, like this was a dream and any moment he'd wake up.

"Thank you," Klavier said. "If you truly don't mind, I'd appreciate the moral support." He leaned back against the headboard and pulled Apollo closer, resting his head on the smaller man's shoulder. Apollo swallowed hard, inside he was horribly conflicted. Sitting here like this was probably as close as he'd ever get to Klavier and as such it was a terrible idea. But the blond seemed to need the comfort and he couldn't refuse. His eyes drifted closed and he let himself fall asleep. He'd deal with the consequences later.

* * *

Athena watched from the door to Winston Payne's office as Ema and a team of forensic investigators scanned for traces of atroquinine. Simon came up behind her and wrapped one arm around her waist.

"Anything?" he said in her ear.

"No," she sighed. "Not so far. And I've heard nothing from Apollo either. I hope Prosecutor Gavin is OK."

"Come on," Simon said. "We can't do anything until the forensic team are finished. Let's go get some lunch."

"We're on lockdown," Athena reminded him.

He grinned at her. "I know a great sushi place that delivers." Athena laughed at him, gaining her a hard look from Ema.

"It's a deal," she said and followed Blackquill back to his office. Once he closed the door, he pulled her close and kissed her softly, before releasing her and heading over to his desk. He leafed through a few flyers before handing one to her.

Athena began looking at the menu, although she and Simon ate there so often she could probably have recited it from memory. Simon booted up his computer and scanned his email, although at the weekend things were typically quiet, this was proving to be no normal Sunday.

"Do you still think the April May murder is related to the serial killer," Athena asked him as she handed the flyer back, pointing to the nigiri lunch special. Simon frowned as he pulled out his phone and dialed the restaurant. He barked their order in rapid Japanese and hung up, then regarded her solemnly.

"Almost certainly," he answered.

"But there are a lot of differences," Athena said. "The choice of victim, the method of killing and now the prosecutor on the case is dead."

"Perhaps Gavin-san is right," Simon mused. "If Redd White was the intended victim, and April May the puppet killer, then the careful set up by the killer went wrong. Probably, he or she hadn't accounted for White's extremely violent nature. Did the police find any GHB at the scene?"

"Not as far as I know," Athena told him. "No picture either."

"She wouldn't need a picture," Simon pointed out. "She knew who he was."

"No, it just doesn't work," Athena said in frustration.

"Too many loose ends!" Widget added brightly.

"True," Simon said ruefully. "And the murder of Payne makes no sense at all."

"I don't know," Athena said. "I've wanted to murder him in court a time or two."

Simon barked out a laugh. "You might want to keep that to yourself, my love."

Athena froze and he glanced at her curiously. "Are you all right?"

"You called me, my love," she said faintly.

Simon shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, I did. Should I not have?" He grunted as Athena threw herself into his lap.

"Of course," she said, peppering his face with kisses. "It's just you've never said it before."

"Oh," Simon replied. "Right. Well."  
"Sacre bleu, you're blushing," Athena exclaimed. Simon growled at her and then tugged her ponytail to bring her mouth closer, claiming it and pressing her body close to his. Athena gasped in delight. He bit off a curse when there was a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" he snapped.

"Officer Krige, with a sushi delivery," came a muffled voice. "They told me to bring it up to you, rather than let the delivery boy in."

"Fine," Simon said and Athena slithered off his lap and adjusted her clothing. Officer Krige opened the door and offered a white plastic bag out to her, nodded at both of them and then ducked out quickly. Athena began pulling plastic containers, soy sauce and chopsticks out of the bag.

"Hey, they even included forks," she said in surprise.

"Forks," Simon repeated absently. He stared at her. "Forks!"

"What?"

"Forks!" he repeated again. "Not chopsticks!"

"I don't understand," Athena said in exasperation.

"At the crime scene, there was the remains of some chinese food," Simon said.

Athena nodded as she recalled the photos in the file. "Yes. Delivered from a local restaurant."

"Do you have the file with you?" he asked. She shook her head. "Never mind, I should be able to pull the crime scene photos up on the computer. He tapped away at it for a few minutes and then gave a triumphant shout. "Here, look!"

The photo on his screen showed two plates with the remains of some food on them. Some kind of rice and a few orange blobs that could be anything on one plate, and some noodles and vegetables on the other. The noodle plate held a pair of chopsticks, carelessly discarded but the other plate had a fork and spoon placed neatly to one side.

"OK," Athena said slowly. "So, two people ate chinese food together and one of them sucks at using chopsticks?"

"Exactly!" Simon said, looking pleased.

"I'm sorry, I'm still lost," Athena pleaded.

"Two pairs of unused chopsticks and a set of plastic utensils were recovered from the scene. Were they examined? I would guess not, since the victim was bludgeoned to death, not poisoned."

"Are you saying the original plan was for Ms May to poison the person who ended up being her killer. Redd White, or maybe someone else? By adding the poison to the utensils rather than the food?"

"Not quite," Simon replied. "What if our killer was supposed to be someone employed at the restaurant? The delivery driver for example. That person doesn't necessarily know who uses chopsticks and who prefers utensils. So just poison all of them and you're good to go. But look closely at the picture again. Those aren't the cheap disposable chopsticks from a restaurant. They're a nice pair, probably from a set."

Athena peered at the photo again and nodded in agreement. "OK. So April May had a nice set of chopsticks, that she presumably used to eat those noodles. Mr White uses the plastic utensils, which are poisoned. But Miss May is dead, not Mr White. And not by poison either."

Simon twisted his face in thought. "Yes, I know. It's not a very good theory."

"I don't see why this came to you now," Athena said, looking slightly distastefully at her own chopsticks.

"Payne loves chinese food. Adores it, but he handles chopsticks like all his fingers were thumbs. He always asks for a fork. I noticed an empty evidence bag and the remains of some General Tso's chicken in the trash. Complete with a plastic fork. The evidence bag was labeled IK-4."

"IK-4! The April May murder!"

"Indeed. What if Payne ordered lunch from his favorite restaurant, but they forgot to include any utensils. Unable to use the chopsticks, what does he do? He could go down to the cafeteria in the basement, but that's annoying and there's this evidence bag sitting there with a set of utensils in it, all wrapped in plastic. No reason to believe there's anything wrong with them, is there?"

"Oh my God! That's horrible!" Athena gasped, her hands flying to her face.

"This is why I hate poisoners," Simon said. "It's cowardly, despicable and can so easily go wrong." He began to unwrap his food slowly and then sighed.

"Maybe we should save this for later," Athena suggested.

"I think so," he agreed, and wrapped everything back up. He placed the food in the small fridge in the corner of the room.

"Let's go tell Ema about your idea and see if her results back it up," Athena suggested. "We can figure out how to make sense of it if it pans out."

* * *

Miles drove back to Klavier's house in silence. Wright was chattering away about something inconsequential and so he just let the sound wash over him. His phone buzzed and he pressed the button on the steering wheel to answer the call through the bluetooth connection.

"Edgeworth."

"It's Gumshoe, sir," the chief of police's voice boomed through the speaker. He sounded unusually serious.

"What is it?" Miles asked, a knot of concern tightening in his stomach.

"Winston Payne's been found dead, sir. Murdered," Gumshoe said unhappily. "We don't know for sure, but the medical examiner suspects acute atroquinine poisoning."

"What!" Miles barked. "Where are you?"

"Payne's office," Gumshoe told him. "Ema found him here when she was sweeping the prosecutors offices for the poison."

"And why, pray tell, was she doing that?" Miles said acidly. "I was not notified."

Gumshoe gulped and it echoed down the line. "Prosecutor Blackquill's hawk was diagnosed with a mild case and they thought maybe someone here had been targeted, but that Taka had been poisoned by accident."

"I'm on my way," Miles said, throwing his car into a sharp J-turn that had Wright screeching in terror. He hung up the call.

"Atroquinine," Wright said when he'd regained his composure. "And here we were, talking about Kristoph Gavin this morning."

"It's a coincidence," Miles told him. "Atroquinine's rare, I'll grant you, but we have had other cases where it was used."

"I know," Wright said. "It's just weird, that's all."

Luckily the Sunday traffic was light and they reached the prosecutor's office in record time. Miles strode up to Payne's office, where Simon and Athena were talking to Ema Skye.

"Mr Edgeworth!" Ema said as he approached. "Chief Gumshoe said you were coming. Hello, Mr Wright."

"What do we know? Do we have a theory on what happened?" Miles demanded.

Blackquill turned and outlined his idea and Miles felt himself blanch. "I'd like to say Payne wouldn't be so crass or stupid as to do that, but he once used a vital piece of evidence as a door stop, almost sent an innocent man to death row."

"I remember that," Wright said. "Didn't Lana wanted to fire him for it but he was too friendly with Chief Gant?"

"Yes," Miles agreed. "And since then the prosecutor's office has always been too shorthanded to afford losing him."

"So we're saying this is a horrible accident, albeit with some carelessness on the victim's part," a short balding man with bright green eyes said as he approached. Miles shook his hand and nodded.

"Mike, you know Simon Blackquill, Phoenix Wright and Ema Skye of course, but this is Athena Cykes of the Wright Anything Agency. Athena, this is Mike Caldwell, chief medical examiner and the best chess player in the state of California."

"Ah, chess," Athena said. "Wonderful game. Simon and I play sometimes." A dull flush spread across her cheeks and Miles found himself wondering why. Looking at the look on Blackquill's face, perhaps it was best not to know.

"The plastic fork is the same type and manufacturer as the one that should have been in this plastic evidence bag," Mike said. "You can see the knife and spoon are still in the wrapping. There are traces of atroquinine on the fork, knife and spoon and inside the bag."

Athena punched Blackquill in the arm. "You were right!"

"I'm always right," the young prosecutor said modestly.

"What a mess," Miles said heavily. "All right, I'll leave you to finish your investigation. Has anyone spoken to his wife?"

"I called Ophelia," Mike said. "I've known the Paynes for years. Gaspen and his wife are with her."

"Good," Miles said. "Wright, I'm going to have to deal with Payne's caseload, and his brother's as well no doubt."  
"We can give Mr Wright a ride," Athena told him.

"No," Wright said. "I'll stay. I can always catch a cab later if Miles isn't ready to leave when it's time for me to go pick up Trucy."

"Well, I think we should go check on Apollo and Klavier," Athena said to Blackquill.

Miles raised an eyebrow at her. "The news of the atroquinine poisoning was a shock," she explained. "Chief Gumshoe arranged for him to go home and I sent Apollo with him because I was concerned for his mental health."

"Go, then," Miles said. "Let us know if there are any problems." He stalked off down the hall to his office and could hear Wright trotting after him.

As soon as he reached his office he collapsed onto the couch. "My God, Wright. A prosecutor, dead! We'll never keep this out of the papers."

Wright dropped down beside him. "You buy it, the accident theory?"

"It fits the facts," Miles said tiredly. "Much as I'm sure any number of people won't mourn Payne's death, that's not the same as actively trying to murder him."

"So how does Blackquill's bird feature?" Wright said astutely.

"I don't know," Miles admitted. "Unless Payne fed her some of his food, which seems unlikely."

"Or there's another contaminated object, somewhere in this office," Wright suggested.

Miles groaned. "Don't," he said. "The police are sweeping the entire building. They've already cleared this room, thank goodness."

"So what now?" Wright asked.

"I call my sister," Miles said. "I think we need her help."


	9. Chapter 9

Athena left Simon in the kitchen and tiptoed down the hall to Klavier's room. She tapped lightly at the door but there was no answer. There had been no sign of Apollo or the prosecutor elsewhere in the house and Athena had assumed they must be in the bedroom. She stifled a giggle at that and gently eased the door open. The sight that greeted her wiped the smile off her face. Klavier was dressed only in a t-shirt and shorts, and he was spooned up behind Apollo who was still fully dressed in his usual red suit. They were both sound asleep, Klavier making slight snuffling noises into Apollo's hair. She toyed for a moment with taking a photo with her phone, but as much as she would enjoy teasing Apollo later, she didn't want to piss off Klavier. She began to back away when Apollo's eyes popped open. He looked puzzled.

"Athena," he said blurrily. "What're y'doin' in m'room?" And then Klavier shifted and Apollo's eyes widened in alarm. He scrambled off the bed with a yelp, and the blond prosecutor opened his own eyes at the sound. He regarded Athena for a moment and then peered over the edge of the bed to observe Apollo in a pile on the floor.

"Herr Forehead, what _are_ you doing?"

"I uh…" Apollo was bright red and he glared at Klavier and Athena. Klavier looked up at Athena for an explanation.

"Es ist peinlich, Sie wurden mit ihm löffelte." Athena said, her eyes wide.

"English, please?" Apollo said from the floor.

"She said it was embarrassing because I was spooning with you. Are you sure that's what you meant to say, fraulein?"

Apollo jumped up and fled the room like all the hounds of hell were on his tail.

"Yes," Athena said. "He woke up when I came in and then freaked out."

"Americans," Klavier said with a roll of his eyes. "Always so touchy about perfectly normal things."

"Are you two…" Athena trailed off when Klavier shook his head.

"Nein, we're friends, not lovers," Klavier said easily.

"But you'd like to be!" Widget announced and Athena flushed to the roots of her hair.

"I better go after him," Athena said quickly at the look on Klavier's face. "When Apollo runs, he doesn't stop for a long time."

* * *

Miles had taken off his jacket and slung it carelessly over the back of his chair. His sleeves were rolled up and there were dark circles under his eyes. Phoenix observed the lines of strain on his friends face.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he offered for the third time.

"No," Miles said, giving him a weak smile. "It's my problem, I have to deal with it. Franziska's agreed to come and help out at least, but she won't get here until Friday. The court schedule is already packed and both Winston and Gaspen were due to prosecute this week. Even after filing for additional time in IK-4 for more investigation given the turn of events, Winston had two other cases this week and Gaspen has three."

"What about Gavin and Blackquill?"

"Blackquill's caseload is full. Gavin could take one more I think."

"OK," Phoenix said. "And you?"

"You think I should take on these extra cases?" Miles said. "I have meetings with the mayor, two state senators, a journalist from the Herald and I'm supposed to testify to a House congressional committee on judicial reform."

"Promise the journalist some sort of exclusive and put them off to next week. Ask the mayor to do a breakfast or late dinner meeting, after court hours."

Miles frowned at him. "That could work."

"You see, I did help," Phoenix told him.

Miles laughed and it made Phoenix's heart soar. "All right. Let me send a few more emails and then we'll head home."

Phoenix tried not to react to Miles's casual announcement. After all, it was accurate, while they were all living together in Klavier's house. But it felt domestic and comfortable and when all this was over, they'd go back to how things were before. It made him want to weep. He swallowed hard and after a moment staring at the floor, he was able to master himself again. Miles stood up and grabbed his jacket, heading for the door. Phoenix sighed and followed him out.

* * *

Blackquill was leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping at an aromatic tea that made Klavier want to sneeze.

"Was ist das?" Klavier asked him. "It smells like flowers."

"Jasmine tea," Blackquill replied.

"You did not find that here," Klavier said with a laugh.

"No, I brought it from my office. I figured you wouldn't have anything civilized to drink."

"Ha!" Klavier said. "That's where you're wrong. The fridge is full of beer."

Blackquill rolled his eyes. "That's what you call civilized? You're a savage, Gavin-san."

"I wish you would call me Klavier," the blond complained.

"I know," Blackquill said. "But it feels weird. So what did you do to Justice-san? He ran out of here like his life depended on it."

"I don't know," Klavier said. "Athena found us napping on the bed. He freaked and made a run for it."

"Oh?" Blackquill said, raising one eyebrow. "Is that why Athena was yelling about spooning?"

Klavier shrugged. "Yes. I don't understand what the problem is."

"You're a liar," Blackquill said pointedly. "You're perfectly aware that sleeping like that is something you do with a lover, not a friend."

"It's stupid," Klavier insisted.

"It's the culture in this country." Blackquill's face turned sly. "And you're being disingenuous. You want Justice-san as a lover."  
"Nein, it is impossible," Klavier sighed, opening the fridge.

"You think so?" Blackquill said, sounding surprised. "Why?"

"He's not interested," Klavier told him. He pulled a beer out of the fridge and twisted off the cap.

Blackquill gave him a steady look, and then threw his head back and laughed. "You're not serious!"

"Of course I'm serious," Klavier said irritably. "Apollo's made his feelings perfectly clear."

"Oh he has, has he?" Blackquill said, still amused. "Justice-san is the most difficult man to read I've ever met. Except perhaps Wright-dono. I wonder if you're picking up the right signals."

"Trust me," Klavier said. "I know when someone is interested. He never responds to any of my flirtations. And he just ran out of here like his pants were on fire. So I drew my conclusions from that."

"Bah," Blackquill snarled. "He doesn't know that you're not just playing with him. You flirt with everyone, after all. Even me."

"Maybe," Klavier said, sounding unconvinced.

* * *

"Apollo!" Athena yelled, her ponytail bouncing as she raced after him. She could run faster than Apollo but he had quite a head start and she wasn't wearing her running shoes. "Apollo, wait!"

He ignored her and turned a corner. Athena would bet a week's salary he was heading to People Park. But when she skidded around the corner, she found him slouched against the wall.

"And people say I have a loud voice," Apollo grunted.

"Why did you run?" she panted. "And why did you stop now?"

"You know why," Apollo said, looking at his feet. "I stopped because you were gaining on me. You were going to catch me eventually."

"I think you're overreacting," Athena told him. "You can't judge Klavier by American standards. Europeans are much more relaxed about this kind of thing." Apollo was flushing again and his hair drooped. "What's going on, Apollo?"

"Nothing!" he yelped and she winced. "Absolutely nothing. We're friends, that's all."

"Not so much!" Widget chirped.

Athena put a hand on her hip. "You can't lie to me, Apollo Justice. I don't need my computer to hear the conflict in your heart."

"It's just a crush," Apollo whispered, defeated. "It's a stupid, childish crush. Like probably at least half the country at one time or another."

"Hmm," Athena said. "I don't know. Klavier doesn't spend his time with any of them. He does go out of his way to spend time with you."

"You're reading too much into it," Apollo insisted. "Why would Klavier Gavin, international rock star and superstar prosecutor, want some mousy defense attorney with a loud voice?"

"Why shouldn't he want you?" Athena said loyally. But secretly, she had to admit, Apollo had a point. Why _would_ Klavier Gavin be interested in him? Apollo was nothing like the voluptuous blonde Hollywood starlet's he typically dated. In fact, she'd never heard a single gossip column suggest he was into guys at all.

Apollo gave her a grateful smile. "Thanks, Athena. You're crazy, but I appreciate the support."

"Are you going to come back now?" she asked.

"All right," Apollo said, giving in.

* * *

When Apollo and Athena returned to the house, Athena pushed Apollo towards Klavier's room with a whispered instruction that he ought to apologize. He hesitated and then rapped on the door.

"Ja?" Klavier's voice came floating through the woodwork.

"Klavier? It's Apollo."

There was silence. And then the door opened and Klavier looked down at him, his mouth turned down and his face solemn.

"Forehead, I apologize…"

"Klavier, I'm sorry…"

Klavier laughed. "Look at us, talking over each other in order to apologize!"

"I'm sorry, Klavier, I really am. I behaved like an asshole."

"Nein, Apollo. Simon explained it to me, how you Americans don't uh… snuggle with close friends unless they are also lovers."

"Uh, yeah," Apollo said, nonplussed. "You think of me as a close friend?"

"My best friend," Klavier declared. But then he looked uncertain. "If that is OK with you?"

"What? Oh, yes," Apollo said, his stomach flipping over. _Best friends with Klavier Gavin?_ "Uh, me too."

Klavier smiled then, and it made all of Apollo's misgivings seem like tissue paper. Klavier was his friend, his close friend, his best friend. He'd missed having a friend like that, when he'd lost Clay, it was like the world was ending. Klavier had lost people too, in a way you could consider even more tragic than how Apollo had lost Clay. They could help each other heal. Stupid crushes be damned.

* * *

Dinner that evening was a homecooked affair. Miles and Phoenix had picked up groceries on their way home and Phoenix had watched as Miles had cooked, occasionally helping out by chopping a vegetable or locating a herb. The result, a delicious _pasta al forno_ with chicken and broccoli, had been spectacular.

"You're wasted as a prosecutor," Phoenix declared, sipping at the white wine Miles had insisted should accompany the food. He might have been a little tipsy, he decided.

"I doubt that," Miles said with a smile. "But thank you."

"Plans for the evening?" Blackquill asked.

"I've got court," Miles said tiredly, getting up. "One of Gaspen's cases. I need to read over the case file and the court record tonight."

"Of course," Blackquill said. "Athena and I will clean up." Miles nodded and refilled his glass before leaving the room. "Gavin-san?"

"I'm ready to rock," Klavier said, but his heart didn't really sound in it. "Forehead and I are facing off tomorrow too."

"And you're going to lose," Apollo pointed out. Klavier flashed a weak grin at him.

"Hmph," Blackquill said. "I have court tomorrow too, but I'm prepared."

"I'm coming with you tomorrow," Athena told him. His eyebrows disappeared under his hair.

"I didn't think you were going to-" he said uncertainly. At her crestfallen look he bit his lip and changed course. "I want you there," he emphasized. "We can have lunch after it's all over."

Athena smiled at him. "All right!" she said. "Come on, Simon. Let's load the dishwasher and then we can go for a run." Simon nodded and began collecting plates.

"Mr Gavin," Trucy piped up suddenly.

"How may I be of service, Fraulein?"

"I need some space for practicing. I've got a show tomorrow night and, well, it's just been so busy."

"Of course," Klavier said warmly. "Would you like to use my studio? It should be large enough, ja?"

"Is that OK?" she said, her eyes wide. "I was just hoping you'd let me use the garage or something."

"Nonsense," Klavier said. "The studio's not being used and is soundproof, so none of us will over hear your secrets." He gave her a pained smile, and it made Apollo's stomach clench. "It's not been used for a while, so it might be a little dusty."

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Trucy exclaimed, throwing herself bodily at Klavier and almost upsetting Apollo's wineglass.

"Ach, it's nothing," Klavier said. He pulled a keyring out of his pocket and carefully removed one of the keys and handed it to her. "I keep it locked, so you'll need this. Please be careful of the equipment."

Trucy accepted the key and gave him a solemn look. "You'll never know I was in there," she promised.

"Come then, let me show you where it is and how to operate the lights," Klavier said. He unfolded from his seat and Trucy followed him out of the room.

* * *

Apollo could feel Mr Wright's gaze on him. After a moment he turned and looked his boss straight in the eye.  
"What?"

"Nothing," the attorney said. "I just- Gavin seems different this evening."

"He's upset about Winston Payne's murder," Apollo explained. At Mr Wright's raised brow he added, "Well, the method of his death at least."

"Ah," Mr Wright said. "Of course. I can see how it would be… disturbing." He gave Apollo a searching look. "How about you?"

"W-Well it was a shock," Apollo admitted. "But, I don't know, I guess I'm getting over it. I mean, Mr Gavin was my mentor and I admired him so much. And sometimes I look at Klavier and the resemblance is so striking, it hits me all over again. The man I looked up to and taught me a lot of what I know about actually practicing law, was… a monster. That's not been an easy thing to accept."

"Yes," Mr Wright said reflectively. "I know what you mean."

"But I've moved on," Apollo continued. "It's different for Klavier. I can at least say, I made a mistake and misjudged the man I chose as a mentor. He can't just shrug his shoulders and tell himself to do better next time! Kristoph was his brother, and they're so alike, it must be terrifying." Apollo ached inside, the pain in Klavier's voice earlier had been torture.

"He's going to need support over the next few days," Mr Wright said cautiously.

"You mean, the execution?" Apollo said, dropping his voice lower. "I know. I've offered to go with him. For moral support."

"Good, that's good," Mr Wright said and Apollo was alarmed when his bracelet tightened dramatically. He peered at his boss in alarm.

"Mr Wright," he said unsteadily, focusing on his boss with all the concentration he could muster given how much wine he'd drunk. "Do you know something about Kristoph's execution?"

"No," Mr Wright said firmly. Apollo choked off a yelp of pain as the bangle tightened even further.

"You know I know you're lying," he managed, hurt that his mentor and friend was still lying to him even after all this time.

"Yes," Mr Wright agreed. "I am. I'm forbidden to speak of this with you, Apollo. I'm sorry. And for the record, I don't approve of what's about to happen. But that's all I can say. That and, Klavier is going to need you. Sooner than you might think."

Apollo relaxed as his circulation returned, the golden circle at his wrist loosening. That at least had been the truth, even if it had been vague and cryptic.

"All right," he said finally. "I'll keep an eye on him."

* * *

There was a light tap at the door and Miles restrained himself from snapping. "Who is it?"

"Me," Wright's voice floated through the wood.

"Come in, Wright," Miles said. The door opened and his friend appeared, a glass of wine in one hand and the bottle in the other.

"I thought you might need a refill," Wright said, his tense voice totally at odds with his apparent mission. Miles smiled at him and held out his glass. Wright poured the remains of the bottle into the wineglass and then placed it in the trashcan by the door.

He looked around the room, but Miles was occupying the only chair and after a moment's deliberation he sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. Miles blinked and struggled with the sense that he liked seeing him there, like that.

"Is there something you want to discuss?" he said, keeping a tight rein on his emotions.

"Yeah," Wright said. "Kristoph Gavin."

"Again?" Miles said before he could stop himself. "It's done, Wright."

"I know," Wright said, holding up a hand. "I'm not here to argue about it. It's just… I feel terrible about keeping this secret, Miles."

Miles leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's for the best."

"I don't know," Wright said. "I just talked with Apollo. Klavier needs closure. Attending the execution is the best way for him to get it."

"I don't agree," Miles said. "What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing," Wright said. "But when this blows up in your face, remember I said it was a terrible idea."

* * *

The courtroom was packed with observers, the Silver Diner murders had caught widespread attention and apparently everyone wanted to attend. The buzzing atmosphere got louder as Klavier Gavin strolled into court and Apollo concealed a grin. It might be a front, but Klavier was giving it his all this morning.

"Is the defense ready?" the Judge said, sounding testy. Apollo started. Had he missed something the Judge had said?

"Yes!" He barked, Chords of Steel making themselves known. The Judge winced and glared at him. Great start, Justice.

"The prosecution is also ready to rock!" Klavier announced.

"Very well, let's have your opening statement," the Judge said.

Klavier led the court through a summary of the crime and then called Ema to the stand.

"Fraulein Detective, if you would, please explain the police investigation to the court."

Ema walked through the crime scene as she had found it, pointing out the relevant details on a map of the diner as she did so.

"Objection!" Apollo yelled when she went into a description of the knife his client had been wielding. The Judge looked bored. "The autopsy report states that the type of knife used in the murder was a slender blade, very sharp, such as a scalpel or similar. The knife you're presenting to the court is a hunting knife, sharp but not sharp enough to make these cuts." He brandished the close up photographs of the wounds on the victims.

"Sustained," the Judge said, looking slightly more alert. "Detective Skye?"

"It's true," she admitted. "The cuts do look more precise than this knife would be capable of producing. But the defendant is a cook. There are any number of very sharp knives in a kitchen. Maybe he used one of those." It was weak, and she knew it, Apollo thought. But what choice did she have?

"But you're not presenting a kitchen knife to the court as the murder weapon," he said triumphantly. "You're presenting this hunting knife and everyone can see it cannot possibly be the right one."

"It's the only knife we recovered from the scene," Ema said, sounding defeated.

"No more questions," Apollo said, satisfied.

Klavier pulled off one of his trademark air guitar moves and Apollo scowled. "Ja, baby! The prosecution now calls the witness to the stand!"

Brandi Snapps seemed to have regained her composure since he'd spoken with her last. She glared defiantly at him.

"State your name and occupation for the record," Klavier said, oddly solemn.

"Brandi Snapps, I was a waitress at the Silver Diner."

"Gut, now, tell the court what you saw the day of the murders."

Brandi began to recount the day, much as she had in her original statement.

"And then, I lost my balance when I was clearing away Ms Starr's plate. It fell to the floor and made a loud smashing sound."

Apollo stiffened. No, surely she hadn't made so simple a mistake?

"Objection!" he cried, slamming his fists down on the bench. "The witness claimed not to know any of the customers in the diner that day."

"Sustained," the Judge said, scratching at his beard. "Ms Snapps, do you have an explanation?"

"I must have heard her name on the news," Snapps said defensively.

"Nope!" Apollo told her. "No way. The names of the female victim was never released to the press. Initially, because she was unidentified. But once the police found out who she was, they had another reason to keep her name a secret."

"And what was that?" the Judge demanded.

"Ms Angel Starr, formerly of the LAPD, was in witness protection," Apollo told him.

"Angel Starr?" the Judge said, his eyes misting in recollection. "Oh yes. The Cough-up Queen. And she made terrific box lunches too."

"Yes, well, uh, she was the female victim in this case." Apollo explained. "We don't know why she was in LA."

"Well, I must have recognized her from her days as a cop!" Snapps said desperately.

"I'm sorry, Fraulein, but that is impossible," Klavier said. "Ms Starr had invested in considerable plastic surgery and colored her hair. She had changed her appearance quite drastically, so much so that her own brother didn't even recognize her. We were only able to identify her from her fingerprints and dental records."

"AARRGGHHH!" Snapps screamed. "What does it matter? So what if I knew who she was? What difference does it make?"

"It makes a lot of difference if you were the one who killed her," Apollo said firmly.

"Why? Why would I kill her? I never met her before that day. You think I'm some sort of psycho who goes around killing strangers? It's your client who was waving a knife around, not me!"

"She's right, Forehead," Klavier said. "You need proof. The murder weapon perhaps? The real one?"

"I don't have it," Apollo admitted. He could see Klavier looking at him, as if to say, come on, you know what you have to present. Maybe if he didn't put his cases together with duct tape and string… wait a minute! Duct tape! "But I do have something else. Take that!" He produced the duct tape and the syringe with a flourish and ignored the way Klavier laughed with delight.

"What is this?" the Judge said, peering at the items.

"A syringe loaded with GHB, more commonly known as the date rape drug," Apollo explained.

"Wait," the Judge objected. "I didn't know the victims were raped."

"No, your honor. It's just called that because it's often used in drug-related rape cases. It renders a victim quite helpless, you see. And if you were a petite woman and you intended to murder a larger person, perhaps an ex-cop, a little drug-induced incapacitation and she can't fight back."

"You can't prove it's mine! You won't find my fingerprints on there!" Brandi snapped.

"No," Apollo agreed. "It's clean. The only thing we found was some traces of duct tape adhesive. And lo and behold, some duct tape. With your skin cells on it."

"That doesn't prove anything," Snapps asserted. "I told you we use duct tape around the diner all the time."

"Have you tested the duct tape for GHB?" Apollo asked Klavier. He gave a wry smile.

"Ja, alas we found nothing. Uh, Fraulein Skye?" Ema had thrown open the courtroom doors and was racing towards the prosecutor.

"You have to see this," she panted, shoving a sheaf of papers into Klavier's hands.

"Order!" the judge demanded. "What is the meaning of this?"

Klavier's eyes were wide and shocked. Apollo's stomach flipped over.

"I see Ms Starr wasn't the only one to change her name," Klavier said dramatically. "Ms Darke."

The court erupted. Snapps started screeching, kicking at the podium and howling. Apollo and Klavier gaped at her appalled. The judge banged his gavel multiple times.

"I will have ORDER!" he barked.

"Fuck you!" she snarled. "And fuck all of you too! You want the truth? Fine. Yes I killed Angel Starr. She sent my brother to prison, entirely on trumped up charges. Called him a serial killer. Joey was the best, kindest, sweetest brother in the whole wide world. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"And the other two victims?" Klavier said sadly.

"It's not my fault!" she shrieked. "I dropped the plate because I knew it would set Victor off. I thought everyone would run away, but Starr, she's an ex-cop, she'd try and calm him down. I wasn't counting on those two have-a-go heroes barging in. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Your honor," Klavier said smoothly. "It seems we have a confession and it exonerates Mr Sheng at the same time. I move that we proceed to judgement and have Ms Snapps taken in for questioning."

"What? Oh, yes, of course." The judge banged his gavel and cleared his throat. "In light of the new evidence and the confession by the witness, this court finds the defendant, Mr Victor Sheng, Not Guilty!"

The court erupted once more, ticker tape and confetti flying like snow. But all Apollo could see was the blinding smile of Klavier Gavin.


	10. Chapter 10

The judge in this case was like a younger clone of the judge Apollo was facing today, Athena thought. She didn't know the man had a brother.

"Silence!" Simon barked across the courtroom and the court dutifully went quiet. "Mr St John, please tell the court what you were doing on the night in question, this time without all the lies and omissions."  
"Objection!" the woman standing at the defense attorney's bench yelled. She was taller than Athena, with tan skin and curling chestnut hair. Like a taller version of her mother, Athena thought. "My client already explained that those omissions were… oversights. Nothing more."

"Indeed," Simon said, a cruel smile on his lips. "Proceed, defendant."

"I went out to dinner with some business associates, at Chez Michel. I did step out to take a phone call," he glared at Simon, "but can't have been gone more than fifteen minutes." His accent sounded strange, British with some American thrown in. Athena supposed it was the effect of living in the US for so long.

"The payments you mention were some help I offered to a friend in need, nothing sinister about them. Yes, they went to a numbered bank account in the Cayman Islands, but if you ask your fellow prosecutor about that, he'll tell you that many people in the public eye use such accounts for privacy reasons." Simon twitched but it seemed he resisted the urge to sic Taka on the man.

"And the email address," Simon prompted.

"Not mine," St John said easily.

"Please see the subpoenaed account records from Freemail Inc," Simon said, slicing the papers across the court and pinning them with his blade. St John didn't even flinch. He's made of ice, that one, Athena thought. Apollo had said St John reminded him of Kristoph Gavin. She could see why now.

"I don't see the relevance," St John was saying.

"Freemail claim that the IP address used to sign up for an account was the one you see on that piece of paper. Your ISP confirms it uses static IP's, and that this is the one assigned to your account."

"My business account," St John corrected. "I have an internal network and over one hundred employees. Any of them could have set up the email address."

Simon recoiled in shock. "My apologies," he said thinly after checking his notes. "You are correct."

Damn, that had caught him by surprise. Athena watched him gather his thoughts. A young man in a dark green suit entered the courtroom and dashed up to Ms Bose, handing her a few papers and whispering to her.

"Your honor," Bose said. "May I approach the bench?"

"Uh, well, that's rather irregular," the judge said. Bose gave him a winning smile. "But there's no rule against it." Martha Bose strode purposefully towards the judge's bench and Simon snarled and slouched after her. There was some murmuring and a few muffled exclamations from Simon. Athena had a bad feeling about this.  
"Right, well, Mr Blackquill, the defense makes a good point about this case. You seem to have very little in terms of evidence and your prior history with Mr St John means you really should have recused yourself before this trial began." Athena gasped in horror. Simon had a conflict of interest and hadn't revealed it to the court?

"This court takes a dim view of anyone who tries to hoodwink justice," the judge continued. "It's seems the facts of this case are clear. I'm ruling this a mistrial, and all charges against Mr St John will be dropped. The prosecutor's office and the police may continue to investigate and if sufficient physical evidence can be found to support fresh charges, this ruling should not interfere with that through double jeopardy. Court is dismissed!" He banged the gavel hard and then turned to Simon, saying something that made the samurai prosecutor nod curtly. The court was mayhem, journalists swarmed around Athena in the public gallery as they all attempted to follow Julian St John and his triumphant attorney out of the court. Athena's phone buzzed in her pocket.

 _We won! Want to go celebrate? AJ_

 _I can't, something bad's happened. Simon's in trouble._

 _What happened? AJ_

 _Tell you later. But it's bad._

* * *

Klavier was almost draped over Apollo in the booth of Java Judgement, looking happier than he had in days.

"You're crazy," Apollo laughed. "Anyone would think you'd won today!"

"I did," Klavier said with a shrug. "At least, justice won." He gave a sly look at Apollo to see if his pun made him smile.

"Like I haven't heard that one before," Apollo grumbled good-naturedly. He tapped a quick message to Athena on his phone. "So, does this mean FR-3 was never related to the serial killer," he asked.

Klavier shook his head, deep in thought. "Ja, I don't know. It's a strange coincidence, is it not? And we didn't solve the question of where the sticky note came from."

"Well, I guess you'll figure it out when you question Ms Snapps or Darke or whatever she wants to call herself," Apollo said. "Joe Darke's sister, huh? What are the odds?"

"It could explain how Fraulein Starr ended up back in LA," Klavier mused. "If Ms Snapps had discovered her new identity and appearance, maybe she lured Ms Starr here somehow."

"Yeah, that could work. I mean, witness protection is good but if she was really determined and maybe hired a good private detective…"

"A bad private detective," Klavier said shortly.

"What? No he'd have to be good at his job… oh you mean, ethically bad. Yeah, I guess." He was distracted by his phone as Athena replied to his message. He frowned and typed another text.

"I hope I'm not boring you, Forehead," Klavier sulked.

"No, no, it's from Athena. Something's happened, I don't know what. But she says Simon's in trouble."

"Blackquill?" Klavier said sharply "How?"

"No idea," Apollo said. "Athena won't say. Probably too complicated for a text message."

"Let's head back to the courthouse," Klavier suggested. "It might be nothing, but there have been too many bad things happening to all of us recently.

* * *

There was a hard rapping at the door and then Miles burst into Phoenix's temporary office, looking flustered.

"Miles," Phoenix said in alarm. "What's the matter?"

"Blackquill," Miles said, sounding terrible. "I've had to suspend him."

"What happened?" Phoenix said, getting up and guiding his friend into a chair.

Miles leaned forward, his head in his hands. "You know he was prosecuting this morning?"

"Yeah, the St John case. Athena turned him down as a client. Said he gave her the willies or something."

"Well, he took on Martha Bose Junior as defense counsel. That apple didn't fall far from the tree. She discovered that Blackquill and St John had a past." Miles was breathing heavily and Phoenix got up and grabbed a can of soda out of the fridge and pressed it into his hands. Miles gave it a disparaging look but opened it and drank thirstily. Phoenix watched the movement of his throat and kicked himself but he couldn't look away.

"What kind of a past?" he prompted.

Miles twisted his hands together in an uncharacteristic expression of distress. "As a prosecutor and in prison."

"St John has a record?" Phoenix spluttered. "I didn't know that."

"Yes and no," Miles said. "He was convicted for the murder of six teenage girls between 2017 and 2019. Blackquill was the prosecutor in that case, just weeks before he himself was wrongly convicted of Metis Cykes's murder. St John's defense counsel filed for a mistrial, claiming the conviction was unsound given that the prosecutor had been jailed for murder. The court wouldn't allow it, but they did give him an expedited appeal and on appeal he was able to provide an alibi for one of the murders. A witness had come forward and said he'd met with St John in Atlanta on the day he was supposed to be murdering Alicia Wentworth in San Pedro. He was acquitted and released."

"Shit," Phoenix said with feeling. "I don't remember that case at all. I remember the murders, vaguely."

"You'd been disbarred by the time St John came to trial," Miles said softly. "You didn't exactly have your finger on the pulse after that."

"Still… fuck, Miles, this is bad. How come you didn't get Blackquill to recuse himself?"

"Because I didn't know, dammit!" Miles barked. "I wasn't here either, remember? I was in Germany. I only found out about it when the Judge came barging into my office this afternoon. I've suspended Blackquill, pending an investigation. I've got no choice, I'm trying to clean this office up and I can't be seen to be sweeping prosecutorial misbehavior under the carpet."

"I'm sure Blackquill understands," Phoenix soothed. He reached out to touch Miles and then hesitated. Swallowing, he gathered his courage and placed a hand on his shoulder. Miles looked up at him, his face drawn and gray.

"What am I going to do," he whispered. "It's all falling apart, Phoenix. What am I going to do?"

Phoenix jerked at the use of his first name. Miles never called him Phoenix, ever. He knelt down on the floor and cautiously slid his hand down Miles's arm and grasped his hand.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But we'll figure it out. I promise."

The door opened and Phoenix found himself staring into the startled eyes of Apollo and Klavier.

"Uh, I think we're interrupting something," Apollo squeaked and began to back out of the room. Phoenix disengaged his hand and stood up, his face flaming.

"No," he stammered. "It's OK. Miles was just telling me about Blackquill."  
"I see," Apollo said slowly. "We just spoke to Athena. She's distraught and Simon's gone into one of his silent, brooding phases."

"I can't believe he was so stupid," Klavier said irritably. "Surely he knew someone like Martha Bose would find out about this."

"Maybe that's why he was so keen for Athena to take the case," Phoenix said sourly.

"Nein, that is beneath you. Blackquill is a pain in the hintern, ja, but he is not corrupt. And he would never do anything to hurt Fraulein Cykes." Klavier looked offended, Phoenix thought.

"I'm sorry," he winced. "I didn't mean it like that. But I agree with you, why did he take such a big risk?"

"It's probably my fault," Miles said. He made a quelling gesture when Phoenix, Apollo and Klavier all denied the possibility. "He knew how much stress I was under, with one prosecutorial position unfilled, Payne using his seniority to get out of prosecuting most of the smaller cases and then this whole mess with the serial killer. He probably figured nobody would find out and no harm no foul."

"I disagree," Klavier said sharply. "Blackquill must have known he was jeopardizing the trial."

"He made a mistake," Apollo said. "Maybe you're so perfect you've never screwed anything up, but the rest of us are human. Leave him alone."

Klavier stared at him, his face white. "My bandmate was a smuggler and a murderer and I never knew. I've made my share of mistakes, Apollo."

Apollo's hair drooped alarmingly. "I know. God, I'm sorry, Klavier. It just feels like the hits keep coming at the moment. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

* * *

"Why didn't you recuse yourself?" Athena asked, her head propped on her knees as she sat on the bed looking at Simon. Simon stared down at the floor.  
"Because Herr Edgeworth is overwhelmed, those shirking Payne's were always wriggling out of cases and that without getting into the whole serial killer debacle," he said curtly. "I didn't see why it should matter. Yes I was a prosecutor on a previous case where he was convicted, and yes later he appealed and was released. But this isn't the first time that's happened. Why should I think this was any different?"

"Uh, because you were in prison with this guy while he was arranging his appeal?"

Simon's head whipped round like a striking snake. "What have you heard?" he snapped.

"Heard? Nothing, Simon. What are you talking about?" Athena could hear the discord and pain in Simon's voice.

"Somebody's mmph mmph" Athena clapped her hand over Widget before he could make this worse.

"Prison is a harsh place," Simon told her. "Sometimes, you have to do things to survive. Things you'd never do otherwise."

"OK," Athena said carefully. "Simon, you don't have to talk about this if you don't want to."

"You'll find out, soon enough," Simon said bitterly. He paused and Athena thought he might not say any more anyway. "There's no money in prison," he said finally.

"Yeah," Athena said, mystified.

"But things are still bought and sold, do you understand?" Simon's voice was a whisper, an icy wind that chilled Athena to the bone.

"Well, I know cigarettes are used as currency," she said uncertainly. "Umm, I'm guessing other things too?"

"Yes," Simon said desolately.

Athena stared at him, understanding making her shiver.

"You…" she broke off, overcome. Simon pulled away from her. "No! Simon, I get it. You shouldn't feel bad about doing whatever you had to do to survive in there." She pulled him closer and wrapped herself around him. "It's OK." She kissed the top of his head. "I promise it's all going to be OK."

"St John was a… procurer of items. Whatever you needed, he could get. I didn't need drugs or cigarettes or anything like that. What I did need was privileges. For Taka. St John made a deal with the warden to allow me to keep my bird. I have no idea what that deal was, the warden certainly hadn't been interested in helping me out when I had appealed to him directly. That deal had a price, and I paid it. So, yes, when the chance to prosecute the man came up, I wanted it. I believe a terrible miscarriage of justice occurred when he was released from prison. I believe his alibi for that case was fake, and I think he's done it again. And he's free to kill again because of me."

* * *

Trucy Wright was young, but that did not mean she was stupid. Daddy had tried to keep her away from the awful things in the world, but she wasn't a little kid anymore. Uncle Miles had explained the serial killer theory to her and that was big and scary. But he also had promised he would keep her safe, and Trucy believed him. He got a particular look in his eye when he said things like that. It was the same look he got when he looked at Daddy. He never looked at anyone else that way. Trucy had tried to explain the look to her friends. Pearl had told her she was imagining things with a more jaundiced eye than Trucy had thought her capable of. Jinxie had been no help at all, since it wasn't likely that Uncle Miles was possessed by a demon. She needed someone to talk to, someone who knew the people involved and could keep a secret.

"You know, I'm not sure I'm the one you should be confiding in," Ema said.

"Who else is there?" Trucy said. "I can't ask Daddy about it, _obviously._ Polly couldn't keep a secret if his life depended on it. And Athena's a good listener but Widget just blurts everything out in front of everyone."

"OK, OK, I suppose that doesn't leave many other people. The fop is too self-absorbed to notice anything and Blackquill's too wrapped up in Athena to notice anyone else even exists. So, explain this to me again because the last time I thought you were implying that Miles Edgeworth is in love with Phoenix Wright. And that is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard in my life."

Trucy sulked. "It's not ridiculous. You should see them together. Look at the expressions on Uncle Miles's face."

"Facial expressions. On the Chief Prosecutor? Look, Trucy, I don't want to seem like I'm being a bitch but are you sure you're not… projecting?"

"I don't know what you mean," Trucy protested.

"Things have been rough recently. A killer on your Dad's trail, other friends of yours possibly in danger. You like Mr Edgeworth, he's strong and stable and he's been friends with your Dad forever. So maybe you're seeing what you want to see?"

"No," Trucy said adamantly. "Please, Ema. Watch him tonight. You'll see it, I swear."

"All right," Ema said amiably. "Although I was looking forward to seeing your show."

"You can do both, silly!" Trucy told her. "Uncle Miles is coming tonight."

"I know that," Ema said patiently. "But how can I observe him and watch you at the same time."

"Oh, you'll figure it out," the young girl said airily. "And anyway, there is an intermission."

* * *

"Trucy will understand if you don't come tonight, Miles," Phoenix said.

"Nonsense," Miles retorted. "A promise is a promise. There's little more I can do tonight anyway. Maybe a break is just what I need."

"Is Blackquill OK?" Phoenix asked.

"I spoke to Athena earlier," Miles told him. "She said he's not in great shape but she's keeping an eye on the situation. Obviously they won't be coming out tonight."

"Of course," Phoenix said. "I already told Trucy what's going on."

"And that's why I have to go," Miles said. Phoenix blinked in confusion. "Trucy needs some stability in her life."

A warm feeling swelled inside Phoenix and threatened to spill over into tears. My God, he thought, you're a grown man. He smiled at Miles and it felt a little wobbly.

"OK," he said unsteadily. "Let's go."

He raised his eyebrows at the bland silver sedan on the driveway. "Got sick of the red sports car?" he asked.

"Don't be ridiculous, Wright. But the car is distinctive and we've already been shot at once. I'm not taking that risk with your life again. Or with your daughter's."

Dammit, Miles seemed to be able to get right under his skin tonight. "Thanks, Miles."

"Gavin and Justice said they'd meet us there," Miles said.

"Yeah," Phoenix sighed. "He's really been good to Trucy these past few days. I may have misjudged him."

"Gavin's a good man," Miles agreed. "I think Justice is coming to see it too."

"Stop," Phoenix groaned. "I can't cope with thinking about that any more."

"I still don't understand why you have such a problem with it," Miles admitted.

"I guess I don't," Phoenix said. "Not since I realized what the situation really is."

Miles's eyebrows dived over his nose. "I don't know what you mean."

"I thought he was going to seduce Apollo and then break his heart. Now I'm beginning to suspect the person at risk of a broken heart is Klavier."

"Justice seems to like him well enough," Miles pointed out.

"Yeah, but he's not had many dependable people in his life. I'm not sure he's capable of dealing with the reality of a relationship with someone so firmly in the public eye."

"It's a concern," Miles agreed. "But Justice is made of strong stuff and he's the second most determined person I know."

Feeling a weird sense of deja vu, Phoenix frowned at him. "And who's the first?"

Miles clasped his shoulder and leaned in. "You, of course."

* * *

The Wonder Bar was packed to the rafters that night. Trucy's shows were always popular, but tonight the owner literally had to turn people away at the door.

"Busy night," Klavier observed in Apollo's ear. "The crowd loves her, don't they?"

"She's amazing," Apollo had to turn and speak directly into Klavier's ear in order to be heard. "But you know you didn't have to come tonight if you didn't feel like it."

"Ach, I cannot wallow in self-pity all night," the German said dismissively. "I made a promise to Fraulein Wright and I keep my promises."

Apollo shivered at the way Klavier's breath ghosted across his skin. "Well, I appreciate it anyway. And I know she does."

"A superstar always wants his fans to be happy," Klavier said idly. Apollo gave him a glare but his heart wasn't in it. This was just part of Klavier's act, he'd realized. One of the ways he protected his real self from the world. Not for the first time, he wondered why he felt he had to. "But your appreciation is a rare and precious thing, Forehead."

"All right, no need to overdo it," Apollo said, rolling his eyes. He felt a light touch on his left shoulder and turned to see Klavier's hand casually resting there. He turned back to his right to ask Klavier what he thought he was doing and was stunned to see the rockstar was staring at him intently. "Uh…"

"I'm perfectly serious," Klavier said. "I mean most of the things I say to you, Apollo."

Apollo gazed at Klavier, and seriously considered for a moment throwing caution to the wind and kissing him. The idea the rockstar prosecutor might actually have serious interest in him didn't seem totally insane in that moment. And then the lights went out, signalling the beginning of Trucy's show, and he lost his nerve. But he didn't move Klavier's arm.

* * *

Ema wanted to watch Mr Wright and Mr Edgeworth, as she'd promised. But her eye kept being dragged away to the way the fop was draped over Apollo and whispering in his ear. Poor Apollo was constantly blushing and it was clear to Ema that the young attorney was utterly enraptured. She felt a twinge of sympathy. Tangling with Gavin was bound to end in tears. She resolutely turned her head and sought out her true target for the evening. Mr Edgeworth and Mr Wright were deep in conversation. Wright was quite animated, speaking with his hands and his eyes were bright. Edgeworth watched him in that enigmatic way that he had… but then Wright said something and although he laughed, pink stained Edgeworth's cheeks. Ema's mouth dropped open in astonishment. Maybe Trucy was on to something here. She had to admit, she'd thought she'd be telling her young friend that she'd seen nothing to suggest anything more than a solid friendship. But the look on Edgeworth's face as Wright continued to speak brought a lump to her throat. Then the lights began to dim as the show was due to start and Edgeworth put his hand on Wright's arm. And the look Wright shot Edgeworth left Ema in no doubt of what was going on. But apparently the two at the center of it were totally oblivious.


	11. Chapter 11

"That was amazing," Klavier said to Trucy, turning on all the charm. "You truly are a magician!"

Trucy blushed and fluttered at the praise and Klavier grinned at her. She practically melted at his feet.

"It's a lot of work," she admitted. "But I feel more like myself when I perform than at any other time."

"I can understand that," Klavier told her. "A lot of what the public sees is just an image. But when I play, ach that is the magic time, I offer up a piece of my soul."  
"Yes," Trucy breathed. "That's it exactly."

"And here is your proud father," Klavier said. "Come to whisk you away, no doubt."

"Well, it is getting late and somebody has school tomorrow," Phoenix said amiably. "Where's Apollo?"

Klavier frowned and scanned the crowd. "He said he had to hit the restroom," he said. "Maybe there's a line."

"I better go check," Phoenix said.

"Nein, let me do it," Klavier said. "You need to get Trucy home."

"OK," Phoenix said. "But I expect to hear from one of you that he's safe."

"You worry too much," the blond advised.

"Given the events of the past few days, can you blame me?" Phoenix said.

"Fair enough," Klavier replied and bowed to Trucy. "Fraulein, I will see you tomorrow."

"Good night! Don't keep Polly up too late!" Trucy said cheekily. Phoenix swatted her good-naturedly on the arm.

"Behave, Truce," he said.

* * *

Klavier entered the men's room and looked around but there was no sign of Apollo. The stalls were empty and the only man in there, currently washing his hands, cast Klavier a curious look as he checked each one. He left and looked around the club. There were no more than a dozen people still milling around, plus a few staff members clearing up. He walked up to a petite brunette who was doing a stock take at the bar and flashed her a smile. She sneered at him.

"Whaddaya want?" she snapped. "We're closed."

"I'm looking for my friend," Klavier said. "He's short, wears a red suit, has spiky brown hair like this," he demonstrated with his fingers.

"Oh, you mean Trucy's friend, Apollo," she said. "Yeah, he came out of the men's room and went out the side door. Looked like he was in quite a rush."

Klavier knew he was being rude but that did not sound good. He turned on his heel and looked around for the door she mentioned. He spotted it and dashed towards it, yanking it open so hard the hinges squealed in protest. He spotted Apollo almost immediately, crumpled into a heap on the filthy ground.

"Apollo! Mein Gott, Apollo!" He lifted the young attorney's head and felt for his pulse. Strong and steady, thank goodness. There was a large welt on his forehead. "Apollo!" The brunet stirred and his eyes fluttered open.

"Klavier?" he said indistinctly. "What happened?"

"I was going to ask you that?" Klavier said.

Apollo's eyes flew open in alarm. "Shit! Klavier, we have to stop Mr Wright!"

Klavier didn't hesitate, he pulled Apollo to his feet and dragged him down the alley towards the front of the club.

* * *

"Mr Wright!" Apollo yelled as they rounded the corner. "The car! Stay away from the car!" But he was too late, Edgeworth had already pulled the door open. The blastwave blew outwards in all directions, the sound so loud that it actually hurt Klavier's ears. Car alarms began going off up and down the street and he dashed forward, tugging his cellphone from his pocket as he ran.

Phoenix and Trucy were lying on the ground, eyes closed. Apollo shoved Klavier towards Edgeworth and kneeled down next to his boss.

Klavier staggered over to where Edgeworth had been thrown by the blast. His clothing was torn and his face was blackened by soot and dirt.

"Edgeworth?" Klavier said as he knelt down next to him. He checked the man's pulse. He was alive! He peeled one of the man's eyelids open but Edgeworth didn't flinch. He dialled 911.

Trucy was already beginning to move when Apollo touched her wrist. "Trucy?"

"Polly," she said. "Where's Daddy?"

"He's right next to you," Apollo told her. "He's not awake yet."

"Is he OK?" Trucy said.

"Let me check you out first," Apollo said. "Are you in any pain?"

"I think I banged my head," she said. "Everything else is OK. Now what about Daddy?"

"All right, all right. Mr Wright?" Apollo checked his wrist and found a pulse. He was breathing. But there was blood streaming from a wound on his head and his eyes remained closed. He looked up to see Klavier standing and talking on the phone. Trucy began to sit up and he pressed her back down. "No way, Trucy. Not until the EMT's take a look at you."

He could hear the sirens already. "They'll be here soon." He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Ema Skye.

"What the Hell just happened?" he demanded.

She gave him an uncertain look. "I'm no expert," she said. "But I think that was a bomb."

"No kidding," Apollo said. "I overheard two guys in the restroom talking about which car was Mr Edgeworth's. It seemed really weird to me so I followed them out of the club. I guess that wasn't very smart."

"No, it wasn't," Ema said. "Why didn't you come and get me? You know, the trained police officer?"

"OK, OK," Apollo grumbled. "I said it was dumb."

An ambulance came screaming around the corner and Apollo was reminded that he'd recently suffered a blow to the head himself. But that was going to have to wait.

* * *

The next few hours were a blur. Apollo grudgingly allowed a doctor to examine him in the ER, and she told him he had a concussion and some minor contusions but nothing too serious. Trucy had needed a few stitches to a cut on her arm but other than that was not badly hurt. Edgeworth was more serious, his concussion was worse than Apollo's and he had a broken bone in his foot. But he was awake and making the nurses unhappy by not sitting still as instructed.

Phoenix Wright was the real cause for concern. They'd whisked him off to the intensive care unit, and were talking about surgery, to release pressure on his brain. Trucy was distraught.

"Fraulein," Klavier said, hugging her tightly. "He will be OK, I promise." She just wailed and wept into his shoulder.

Edgeworth limped over, his face pale and drawn. "What's the news?"

"They're taking Mr Wright into surgery," Apollo told him. "He's bleeding into his brain or something."

"Fuck," Edgeworth said, sitting down heavily. Everyone stared at him.

"Not helpful," Klavier said, looking meaningfully at Trucy weeping on his chest.

"I'm sorry," Edgeworth said contritely. "Trucy, your father is the luckiest, most resilient, indestructible man I have ever known. He'll pull through, I swear."

Trucy nodded and pulled herself free of Klavier's hold, launching herself at Edgeworth instead. "Uncle Miles!"

Edgeworth hugged her tightly with his good arm and kissed her hair. He looked close to tears himself. Apollo pinched the bridge of his nose, his head throbbing.

* * *

Minutes bled into hours. Finally, the doctor appeared a little after 3am and spoke with Edgeworth and Trucy. Evidently she'd taken Trucy's calling the prosecutor uncle at face value.

"The operation was a success and he's stable, if still critical," she told them. "We're going to keep him in a medical coma for now, give him a chance to heal. You should go home, get some rest."

"I can drive us all home," Klavier offered.

"No," Edgeworth said, shaking his head. "I'm not leaving. But you should take Trucy and Justice home."

"I want to stay here!" Trucy said defiantly.

"I know," Edgeworth told her. "But there's nothing we can do but wait, and you might as well go home and get cleaned up, maybe get some sleep. I'll let you know if he wakes up, I promise."

"You need rest and a shower too," Klavier pointed out.

"I can do that here," Edgeworth said. "I've asked my assistant to bring me some clothes and toiletries. I'm still in contact with the investigation team at the scene, so I can't sleep yet anyway."

"OK, Herr Edgeworth," Klavier said. "I'll bring Forehead and Trucy back in the morning, and I can give you a ride home then."

Edgeworth raked a hand through his hair and frowned at the tiny pieces of concrete he found. He nodded to Apollo and Klavier, pressed a kiss to Trucy's head and then headed down the hall to Phoenix's room.

A tall young woman with short, curly red hair and a long pointed nose dashed up to them.

"Liza Canard, Los Angeles Inquirer. I heard about the bomb. Klavier Gavin, rockstar and prosecutor narrowly escapes death at the hands of a psycho killer! Are you being stalked by a crazed fan? Maybe one who disapproves of your recent… liaisons?"

Klavier stared at her in astonishment as she rattled away. "Ms Canard," he said coldly. "This is hardly the time."

"Look, I got this story before anyone else," Canard said. "It's mine. If I wait for you to be ready to give a statement, it'll be everywhere. I lose my exclusive!"

"That's your problem, not ours," Apollo said curtly. This woman was unbelievable!

"Ah ha!" she exclaimed. "Klavier Gavin's clandestine affair with a young defense attorney shocks fans! What will Cassandra Silverstein think of your sneaking around like this? And with a man!"

Klavier had only been irritated before. Now he was furious. "Ms Canard, I will not say this again. I have no comment for that appalling rag you work for. I will not listen to you slander my friends. And if you print any of these outrageous lies, I will sue you and your pathetic excuse for a newspaper out of business!" He brushed past her, dragging Trucy and Apollo with him.

"You can't silence the truth!" Canard yelled after him. "The public have a right to know."

Apollo watched in horror as Klavier eviscerated the gossip columnist in front of two weary nurses and a half-dozen curious onlookers. And then Klavier grabbed him and Trucy and bodily hauled them down the hallway to the parking lot.

"Uh, I don't think that was such a good idea," Trucy said.

"I know," Klavier snapped. "It's been a long day and I lost my temper."

"Hey," Apollo said. "Don't take it out on Trucy. It's not her fault."

Klavier let out a big sigh. "Fraulein Trucy, I apologize. I did not meant to be short with you."

"It's OK," Trucy replied. "I understand. Polly's just being a big old meanie."

"Let's just go home," Apollo said, tiredness dragging at his heels.

"Ja," Klavier said. "My car is over here."

* * *

Once inside the sporty little Mercedes, Trucy curled up on the back seat and went to sleep. Apollo watched her for a moment and then turned away, staring out of the window.

"She's just a friend," Klavier said suddenly, after he pulled out of the lot.

"What?"

"Cassandra. She's a friend of mine, has been for years. She dated Daryan for a while, back at the height of the Gavinners fame." Klavier didn't look at Apollo as he said this.

"OK," Apollo said slowly. "It's not really any of my business." He didn't want Klavier to know how that barb the horrid journalist had thrown had hit home. But Klavier apparently thought it required some explanation.

"It could be," Klavier said obscurely.

Apollo's head whipped round and he winced. Given how hard he'd been hit on the head, that had not been smart. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Klavier swallowed, hard. "My threats of legal action probably won't be enough to deter Canard. She's never liked me, and some of the things she wrote about me and Daryan when he went to prison and the band broke up, well, they weren't libellous _per se_ , but it was clear she thought I had betrayed my friend."

"OK," Apollo said, mystified. "So she what, writes a scurrilous rumor piece, laden with 'allegedly' and 'sources say'?" He shrugged. "It'll blow over. Any reporter with half a brain will quickly see it's nothing more than a bunch of made up nonsense."

"Made-up nonsense…" Klavier repeated.

"Yeah. I mean, what are you afraid she'll find? If you're really just friends with Cassandra Silverstein, that'll be pretty obvious after even a shallow dig into your past?" Apollo said. "And if you're worried about me, well it's going to be even more obvious that she's just making up nasty rumors to smear you."

"It will?" Klavier said, his face taking on a pinched expression. "Why's that?"

Apollo stared at him for a moment. He really didn't want to say this, but it seemed Klavier needed to be hit over the head with it. "Because I'm just some underpaid, overworked defence attorney. There's nothing interesting about me, really. Why would anyone believe we were having some super secret affair? I'm not at all your type. Anyone who suggested such a thing would be laughed out of the room."

Klavier's face hardened. Apollo didn't know what he was saying that was making the rockstar prosecutor look like that, but he wished he knew how to make this better. Klavier swung the car into the gated community and into the driveway of his house without saying another word. Silently, he picked Trucy up off the back seat and carried her into the house, laying her down on her bed and closing the door behind him. Apollo followed, anxiety clenching at his gut. He'd really pissed Klavier off it seemed. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out how.

He busied himself in the kitchen, pouring a glass of water and locating some Advil. His head throbbed. Klavier came in as he was downing the pills and his face softened.

"I'm sorry, Apollo," he said. "I didn't think about your head injury. But we need to have this conversation, now."

"What conversation?" Apollo said, thoroughly weirded out. "You mean, the one we were having in the car?"

"In a sense." Klavier stalked closer to him and took the glass from his hand. He placed it on the counter and crowded Apollo back against the refrigerator. "You have some odd ideas about me," he said.

Apollo blinked up at him. "I do?"

"Yes," Klavier said, in a soft, almost menacing voice. "Even though I've told you, many times, that my image is not who I am, you still insist on seeing the facade and not the person underneath."

"That's unfair," Apollo defended. "And it's not true."

"Very well," Klavier said. "In some areas, you're right. You do see the real me. But you seem to think that I am utterly shallow when it comes to relationships. That I have a string of notches on my bedpost, groupies and Hollywood actresses and the like."

"Well, don't you?" Apollo said in surprise.

"Nein," Klavier said. "At least, not as many as you'd think. And not all of them were women."

"Uh," Apollo managed, his brain short-circuiting.

"Also," Klavier continued, still in that soft voice that was doing all kinds of odd things to Apollo's concentration. "I object to your characterization of yourself. I value you very highly, Apollo. Our friendship has been the one bright spot in a very dark time in my life." He reached out and stroked his fingers along Apollo's jaw. "You don't know anything about who is and is not my type."

Apollo bit his lip and Klavier's eyes fastened on his mouth. "Klavier, I uh… I'm sorry. I didn't meant to upset you. It's been a crazy night and I'm pretty freaked out."

"Yes," Klavier sighed. "But you're not listening." He swallowed hard. "When Herr Wright cornered me a few nights ago, warning me away from you, I told him he had got it all wrong. That I had no hopes in your direction, because I didn't think you were interested in me in that way. It's why it was always safe to flirt with you, because I didn't think there was any risk of you being hurt."

 _Ohshitohshitohshit_ , Apollo thought. He _knows._ He knows and now he's trying to let me down gently. "Klavier," he began, his voice breaking. "It's OK. I understand. You don't need to worry about me doing anything embarrassing. I mean, you must have people crushing on you all the time, right? It doesn't have to be a big deal."

"Crushing?" Klavier said, looking surprised. "Apollo, are you telling me you're attracted to me?"

"Wait," Apollo said, his heart sinking. "Isn't that what this conversation is about? You telling me you know about my stupid crush and trying to cushion the blow?"

"Nein," Klavier denied. "This conversation is about how I have flirted with you, frequently, blatantly and in public because I thought there was no chance you would get hurt and now you're going to have your name dragged through the mud in the court of public opinion. That's my fault and I wanted to apologize."

"Oh," Apollo said, feeling about five inches tall. He looked down at the tiled floor, his face heated. "Well. That's uh, that is, oh." Very eloquent, Justice!

Klavier shifted closer to Apollo, almost pinning him against the fridge. "It seems we were having very different conversations, you and I," he said. He tilted Apollo's face upwards with his fingers on Apollo's chin. "Talking past each other, you might say." He leaned forward and Apollo thought he might pass out. Klavier laid a soft kiss on his lips and Apollo wondered if this was a hallucination brought on by concussion or maybe a dream. But he didn't wake up and when Klavier leaned forward again and kissed him again, he let his eyes drift closed and concentrated on the sensation. He shivered and Klavier deepened the kiss a little.

"Apollo…" he breathed. It would have been easy to let Klavier continue, God knows he wanted to just sink into this, to drown all his worry and fears in the heat of desire. But they were both vulnerable right now and it wasn't a good idea to ignore that. Apollo gently disengaged and moved away a fraction, trying to control his wildly beating heart.

"Klavier," he croaked. "We can't…" He backed away into the living room.

The blond turned his head away. "Of course," he said brokenly. "I understand."

"No," Apollo said firmly. "You don't. I'm your friend and you are going through a very difficult time right now. We've just been through a traumatic experience. That means not doing something you'll regret later."

"Why would I regret it later?" he demanded. He stalked towards Apollo until the young attorney's legs hit the arm of the couch.

Apollo sighed, the man's moods were so changeable! "Because we're both freaked out and it's easy to want to shut the world out, drown yourself in sensation. And I'm the only one here."

"You think this is about convenience?" Klavier said, sounding scandalized. "You think I would throw myself at anyone who happened to be nearby?"

Apollo winced, but yes he did. He opened his mouth to speak but Klavier lunged at him, attacking his mouth and he had no choice but to submit under the onslaught. This kiss was savage and wild and Apollo groaned as his willpower crumbled. He wanted this so much and his ability to resist Klavier was rapidly diminishing to zero.

He tore his mouth away and shoved Klavier backwards. As the blond fell back onto his elbows on the floor, Apollo launched himself forward, grabbing Klavier's ponytail and tugging hard to tilt his head back and expose his throat. He bit down once onto Klavier's collarbone with a growl and then lifted his head to look into Klavier's eyes, breathing hard. The prosecutor's eyes were wide and his pupils were totally blown, his lips parted as he matched Apollo, breath for ragged breath.

"Mein Gott, Apollo," Klavier whispered, his gaze sweeping up and down the smaller man.

"Is this still what you want?" Apollo panted.

"Ja," Klavier said reverently. "Beautiful Apollo, I've never wanted anything more."

"This is a mistake," Apollo said regretfully. "But I can't say no to you."

"Shut up and kiss me," Klavier said. "Let me prove you wrong."


	12. Chapter 12

For the second time in as many days, Apollo awoke to find Klavier spooned up behind him, the rockstar's nose buried in his hair and his breath whooshing against his scalp. There were differences, however. No Athena gawping at him this time, thankfully. But unless he was mistaken, Klavier was naked. And so was he.

Fuck. He'd done it, hadn't he? Memories from the night before flooded in. Klavier had been as wild and untamed in bed as Apollo had imagined and his face flooded with heat at the thought. But now it was morning and in the cold light of day, Apollo began berating himself. What the Hell had he been thinking last night? But he knew the answer to that all too well, even if he didn't want to admit it. He'd let his attraction to Klavier overrule his good sense, simply because the man had turned on the charm. He was a fool.

"Stop thinking," Klavier mumbled into his ear. Apollo wriggled free and got out of bed, searching the floor for something, anything to wear. Klavier sat up, his hair delightfully mussed and his face creased. Apollo's stomach lurched at how adorable he looked.

"Apollo," Klavier said, snapping his fingers in front of his face. Shit, had he zoned out?

"Uh, hi," he stammered.

"Forehead, you are not about to do the walk of shame, are you?"

Apollo gulped, his stomach tied into knots. "No, I uh, I just have to… go. Uh, to the hospital to see Mr Wright."

"Ah. I'll take you, and Miss Trucy of course."

"No! No, there's no need. We can ride the bus," Apollo said desperately.

Klavier leaned back against the leather headboard, still flagrantly naked and apparently unconcerned about it. "Apollo, do we need to talk about last night?"

"What? No, no, definitely not. I uh, we… Well, we were overwrought and there was… adrenaline, yeah, and I was freaked out and you were freaked out and-" he was cut off by Klavier bounding out of bed and kissing him thoroughly. When the prosecutor finally released him, he stared up at him uncertainly.

"This was not a one-off," Klavier said seriously. Then doubt and uncertainty clouded his pretty face. "At least, not for me."

"Klavier…" Apollo sighed and Klavier held up one hand.

"Nein, Apollo," he said. "If you are going to tell me how it can't work, or that I'll get bored with you or some other nonsense I swear I will scream!"

Apollo eyed him in alarm, he didn't put it past Klavier to actually start shrieking. "Klavier, I'm just trying to be practical."

"Bah! To Hell with practical," Klavier snarled. "I love you."

Apollo staggered backwards in shock. "You what?"

"Verdammt, Apollo, I did not mean to say that." Klavier said, wincing. "At least, not yet."

"No, this is insane," Apollo insisted. "You're insane."

"Apollo, schatzi, I'm sorry. This is not at all how I wanted this to go. But, ja, it is true. I've felt this way for months. Or longer, I don't know." Klavier dropped to his knees and gathered Apollo's hands into his. "Bitte, Apollo."

Apollo looked down at Klavier, his head bowed in supplication. This was just too surreal. Klavier Gavin was begging _him_ not to walk away from this as a one night stand? "Klavier, I didn't meant to hurt you. I just thought, you know, that you'd come to your senses this morning."

"I don't want to 'come to my senses', Forehead," Klavier said, looking upwards and miming the air quotes. "I want you to consider trying to make this work. It's not going to be easy, I won't lie. But that awful woman last night made me realize that if you're going to be under the microscope for dating me, we might as well make that a reality if that's something you think you could want."

"You're waffling," Apollo said fondly. "And I still think you're certifiable. But… OK. If this is really what you want, who am I to say no?"

Klavier shook his head and stood up. "Nein, Apollo. You have to want it too."

Apollo stepped closer and looked up into his bright blue eyes. "I never said I didn't want it," he pointed out. He reached up and tugged Klavier's head down for a soft, sensuous kiss. "Now, Trucy will be up any moment. I don't think she should catch us like this."

"Hah," Klavier said. "The fraulein magician doesn't miss much. But we do need to get back to the hospital." Apollo gulped guiltily and kicked himself for his selfishness. Mr Wright was lying in a coma and here he was cavorting around naked- Klavier kissed him and his brain rebooted. "Stop that," he said. "Now, let's get moving." Klavier swatted Apollo on the bottom and he yelped.

"Hey, cut it out!"

Klavier grinned at him. "But it's irresistible!"

* * *

Athena had been so focused on Simon's distress she hadn't checked her phone all night. So it was with some alarm that she read the series of messages from Apollo and Trucy about the night's events.

"Simon," she said, touching his shoulder. "Wake up. Mr Wright's been hurt."

Simon rolled over and looked at her through a fringe of hair. "How?"

"There was a bomb in Mr Edgeworth's car! Him and Trucy are OK, but Mr Wright's in a coma!"

"A coma? That's not good. Do you want to go straight to the hospital?"

"Yes," Athena said. She cupped his face in her hands. "Are you OK to come with me?"

"Yes, yes," Simon said gruffly. "This is more important."

* * *

The front of the hospital was blocked by a throng of reporters. A hospital security guard was standing in front of the doors, trying to convince them to leave but without much success. Athena looked at the crowd in dismay.

"They're going to pounce on you like wolves," she predicted.

"Possibly," Simon agreed. Taka stretched out her wings as if preparing for a fight.

"Athena!" A voice hissed from behind her car.

"Apollo?" she said in surprise. "What are you doing hiding back there...oh hello Klavier, Trucy."

"We're hiding from the press," Apollo said acidly. Athena frowned at him in confusion. "Don't ask."

"All right," she said lightly. "So what's the plan?"

Klavier slid one hand around Apollo's hip in a very familiar fashion and Athena's eyes widened. Apollo glared at her, daring her to say something. She kept her mouth firmly closed.

"There's a back entrance," Klavier said. "Ema's going to let us in." His phone buzzed. "She's there now, come on, follow me!" He took off across the parking lot, heading for the rear of the building. Athena and Simon jogged easily behind him, Trucy and Apollo bringing up the rear. None of the reporters seemed to notice, they were all too busy arguing with the security guard.

The door at the rear was labelled 'Deliveries' and a tired-looking Ema Skye stood propping it open.

"Fraulein detective, you are a lifesaver," Klavier said as he hustled everyone inside.

She gave him a sour look. "I haven't actually been home yet, so watch your mouth, fop," she said in lieu of a greeting.

"How's Mr Wright?" Athena asked.

"Hmm, hard to say," Ema said. "He's still in a coma. Mr Edgeworth stayed by his bedside all night."

"Can we go in to see him?" Trucy asked.

"You can, no problem," Ema said. "You're family. I don't know about the rest of you."

* * *

Trucy tiptoed into the room where her Daddy lay insensate. Uncle Miles was slumped in a chair, his mouth hanging open.

"Uncle Miles?" she whispered. His eyes popped open.

"Trucy? Is it morning already?" he said indistinctly.

"Yes," Trucy said softly. "How's Daddy?"

"The doctors seem happy with his progress," Uncle Miles said. "They're saying they're going to keep him unconscious for another day before seeing if he'll awaken naturally." Trucy bit her lip. She wasn't going to cry, she wasn't. Uncle Miles spread his good arm and she took the offered hug willingly. "He'll be OK, Trucy." He kissed her head. "He has to be."

Athena peered in the window of Mr Wright's room, where Trucy was curled up in Mr Edgeworth's lap.

"What can you see?" Apollo asked impatiently.

"Not much," Athena admitted. "Trucy's hugging Mr Edgeworth."

"So, what's new with the investigation?" Klavier asked Ema.

She popped a Snackoo in her mouth and crunched. "Not a lot. The bomb was some kind of improvised explosive device. Not uncommon these days, any moron can find the instructions on the internet and all the components are easy to find. The only lead is that the bomb was on a timer made from an old cell phone. A really old cellphone."

"Oh," Apollo said. "Is that significant somehow?"

"Maybe," Ema said, looking thoughtful. "It's a really old model. At least twelve years old. But the attached Steel Samurai strap is limited edition."

"Is it one of Mr Edgeworth's old phones?" Athena asked.

"No," Ema said. "That was my first thought too. The phone is pink, so it seemed possible. But according to his assistant, it's not his."

"How did you find a cellphone in the first place if it was part of a bomb?" Apollo asked curiously. "Surely it was blown up?"

"Of course," Ema said irritably. "But there were fragments. Enough that the lab could identify the make and model as well as the color and the strap was remarkably undamaged."

"Oh, yeah," Apollo said, feeling stupid. Klavier's hand came down on his shoulder and squeezed.

"I have to head over to the detention center," Klavier said apologetically. "Brandi Snapps a.k.a. Brandi Darke, is being questioned this morning."

"I'll come with you," Apollo said. "I'm not much use here and I can walk over to the prosecutor's office from the detention center."

"I'm staying here," Athena said. "Simon?"

"I'll come with you, Gavin-san, if it's not too much trouble," Blackquill said quietly.

"There you are," a voice said brightly from behind Apollo. "Thought I was going to have to put out an APB on your cute little ass."

"Officer Plige, please, your sense of humor is getting away from you again," Blackquill snapped.

She gulped in horror. "Oh, uh, I didn't see you there, Prosecutor Blackquill." She turned her attention back to Klavier. "Well, you're late. I was instructed to come round you up."

"Late?" Klavier said, sounding baffled. "I have no appointments until this afternoon."

"Huh," Krige said. "Well, you're down as the next of kin and I know identification in this situation is just a formality but somebody's got to do it and-" Klavier was staring at her, his mouth open and his skin bone-white.

"What do you mean?" Apollo demanded. "Next of kin? His only next of kin is his brother."

"Yep," Krige said, apparently impervious to the way the temperature in the hallway had dropped. "That's the one. Kristoph. They need someone to formally identify the body."

Klavier swayed alarmingly and Apollo steadied him. "Officer Plige," he said between gritted teeth. "I find your levity to be entirely inappropriate. Kristoph Gavin was not scheduled to be executed until Thursday evening. The identification would have been scheduled for Friday. Today is Tuesday. Are you telling us he's dead? How?"

"I don't know," Krige said, cowed now and backing away. "Nobody tells me anything. I was just told that the next of kin were supposed to show up and formally identify the body at 10am. And that next of kin is Mr Gavin."

"Officer Plige," Klavier said faintly. "I- I'm coming."

"Then I'm coming with you," Apollo told him.

* * *

Klavier stared down at the off-green sheet that covered… the body.

"You ready?" Mike Caldwell asked, his voice sympathetic.

"Nein," Klavier said. "I don't think I'll ever be ready. Let's just get this over with."

Apollo grabbed Klavier's hand and squeezed. The blond looked down at him and gave him a tiny smile of thanks. Mike lifted the sheet away from Kristoph's face and time seemed to stop. Everything seemed to stop. Kristoph's face seemed older, drawn and gray. There was more silver in his hair than Klavier remembered, but in fairness he hadn't seen his brother in a really long time. It was over. Kristoph was dead.

Klavier stared down at the body of Kristoph Gavin, the blood draining out of his face. He swayed and then he turned his head towards Apollo, his eyes rolling up in his head as he slid gracelessly to the floor. Apollo threw out his arms to catch him and they'd landed in a heap, limbs entangled.

"I'm sorry," Mike said. "I thought he'd be more prepared."

"What went wrong?" Apollo asked. "Klavier was working on his mental preparation. But we thought the execution was scheduled for Thursday."

"No idea," Mike told him. "I just found out when I got to work this morning that the date had been moved up. I assumed he'd be contacted."

Klavier's eyelids fluttered. "Apollo," he mumbled.

"I'm here," Apollo said. "Doctor, do you need Klavier to sign something?"

"Yes," Mike said. Apollo heard the rustle of the sheet and then a clipboard appeared in front of him.

"Can I sign it instead? I don't think Klavier's in any fit state right now."

"Oh, that's right, you were Mr Gavin's employee. Yes, yes, you can sign. As long as you're willing to swear an affidavit in court should there be any question."

"Is that likely?" Apollo asked, his eyebrows diving over his nose.

"What? Oh no. But it's the law, so I have to say that."

Apollo signed the paperwork and shoved it roughly at Mike. It wasn't the bald little man's fault of course, but he'd had enough of everyone today. Except Klavier. He stroked the blond's cheek.

"Hey, Klavier," he said softly. "Are you ready to go home now?"

Klavier nodded and they scrambled to their feet. Mike had taken the trolley with Kristoph's body away, thankfully and so Apollo could just guide Klavier out of the morgue and towards the garage.

"Well, your car is here and your motorcycle is at the prosecutor's office," he said. "We can get a cab, but then you won't have a vehicle at home."

"We take the car," Klavier growled. Apollo stared at him, startled.

"Uh, are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I'll take the car then," Klavier told him. "You can take a cab."

"No way," Apollo said. "I'm not letting you drive on your own after the shock you've had. You want to kill yourself, you're going to have to take me with you!" He blinked at himself. That was… not quite what he'd meant to say.

Klavier was looking at him like he'd slapped him across the face. "Damn you, Apollo," he said. "Come on then."

* * *

Ema offered to drop Blackquill off when she was leaving to return to the police station. But Simon just shook his head and stalked off.

"Sorry, Ema," Athena apologized. "He's taking this suspension hard."

"It's all right," Ema said indifferently. "I'm used to it." She offered Athena a Snackoo, who accepted gratefully. "What do you make of this business with Kristoph Gavin?"

"I don't know," Athena said. "Apollo's text just said they moved up the execution date and didn't tell anyone."

"Huh," Ema said. "That's illegal. Any request to move an execution date has to be approved by the governor."

Athena's phone buzzed again and she looked down at it. "Apollo and Klavier identified the body and now they're headed home. I think Klavier's in a bad way."

"Of course he is," Ema said. "Kristoph was his only family. Poor fucker."  
"Don't tell me you're actually feeling sorry for him?" Athena said in surprise.

"I'm not made of stone," Ema said. "The fop's annoying, although less so than he used to be. But he's not a bad person."

"Apollo will take care of him," Athena told her.

"Yes, so I understand," Ema said significantly. Athena blinked at her. "Didn't you see they way they were with each other this morning? They slept together last night."

"You mean like _slept together_ slept together?" Athena clarified, feeling a little alarmed.

"Like, did the nasty, the horizontal tango. They fucked. I'm just saying." Ema crunched idly on another Snackoo. "Thought Apollo would hold out longer to be honest."

"I'm not sure this is good news," Athena said, her nose wrinkling at Ema's crudity.

"Why not?" Ema retorted. "Apollo needed someone to yank that stick out his ass. Gavin's good for that at least. They'll get it out of their systems and then things will go back to normal."

"Do you have a single romantic bone in your body?" Athena asked sadly.

"Nah," Ema said. "Had that beaten out of me a long time ago. OK, I gotta run. Seeya!"

Athena watched her leave. Ema was too young to be so cynical, she thought.

* * *

Miles jerked in surprise when there was a tap at the door. He cast a look at Trucy, who was chatting to Wright about inconsequential things and then answered the door to Athena.

"It's late," she said without preamble. "I should get Trucy home and get her something to eat. Do you want to come along? You need to get some proper rest. I can't believe you're sleeping well in that chair."

Miles smiled at her. "Thank you, Athena. No, I'm going to stay here. I don't want Wright to wake up alone. But Trucy should go home. Did anyone call her school? I completely forgot about it."

"Don't worry, I took care of that," Athena told him. She gave him a pained smile. "It seems I'm in charge of holding it together for everyone today."

Miles looked at her sharply. "What else has happened?"

"Oh, of course, you haven't heard. Something weird happened. Kristoph Gavin's execution got moved up but nobody told Klavier and he had to go and identify the body…" she trailed off at the look on Miles's face. "You already knew," she accused.

"Not the specifics, but yes in general," he admitted. "I was the one who submitted the request to Governor Kaling."

"Oh," Athena said. "Oh. Oh, I wish you hadn't told me that."

"Klavier will find out sooner or later," Miles told her. He looked back at Wright and swallowed hard. "Trucy? Athena's going to take you home now."

Trucy looked up. "Do I have to go?"

"No, but I promised your Dad once that if anything ever happened to him, I'd take care of you. That means making sure you eat and sleep and things like that. You don't want me to break my promise to him, do you?"

Trucy glared at him. "I'm not ten years old anymore. You can't manipulate me with emotional blackmail." Her shoulders slumped as she looked back at Wright. "OK, maybe you can. But just this once!"

She kissed her father on his forehead and then followed Athena out of the room. Miles looked down at Wright and after a moment struggle with himself, took the attorney's hand.

"She misses you," he said. "Dammit, Wright, I miss you. You have to come back to us. Soon."


	13. Chapter 13

Ema took her time observing the young woman on the other side of the table. Her mouth was pulled down in a permanent sneer. Her strawberry blonde hair was cut into a stylish pixie cut, and her gray eyes were narrowed as she took in Ema's appearance.

"Are all police detective so badly dressed?" Brandi drawled.

Ema ignored her, she was too professional to let a pathetic jibe about her appearance shake her. "So," she said, making a pretence of looking at her file. "Ms Snapps. Or rather, Ms Darke."

"Snapps is my married name," the suspect said.

"Very well, Ms Snapps, why don't we go over things from the top. Since your previous testimony was a pack of lies." Ema flashed her a grin and Brandi glowered back.

"I was just fourteen when you pigs threw Joey in jail and then executed him. For a crime he didn't even commit!"

"He didn't kill Neil Marshall, that's true," Ema said. "But he did take me hostage and we're sure he killed a bunch of other people."

"Wait, you're the girl who was tangled up in all that. You're that Ema Skye?"

"Are there any others?" Ema snarked. "Yes, that was me. So I met your brother and he was one messed up dude. Don't give me the 'couldn't hurt a fly' crap. I was _there._ "

"It wasn't his fault," Brandi insisted. "Anyone could have ended up in that situation."

"Accidentally knocking down and killing a pedestrian? Sure," Ema allowed. "Killing the witness to that accident, then the witness to that crime and another and another? Not so much. One of them was a kid, for God's sake!"

Brandi folded her arms and sat back, her pink mouth pouting mulishly. "I'm not saying another word. You've got a conflict of interest."

The door to the interrogation room opened behind Ema and a voice said imperiously. "A conflict of interest? What a foolish idea." Ema turned around to see a woman a few years older than herself, with silver-blue hair in a tidy bob and gray eyes that regarded her intelligently.

"Prosecutor von Karma!" she exclaimed. Von Karma gave a chilly smile and inclined her head.

"Detective Skye, I presume? Forgive my intrusion but I need to speak with you." She cast a jaundiced eye over Brandi Darke Snapps. "And from hereon, this interview is mine."

Ema opened her mouth to object and then she spotted the whip in von Karma's right hand. "Uh, sure." She'd heard stories about that whip. Von Karma swept out of the room and Ema followed dutifully. She ignored the snickering from Brandi Snapps.

Out in the corridor, von Karma's expression relaxed. "Horrid woman," she commented.

"Who, Snapps?" Ema said, surprised. "Uh, yeah. But I guess grief can do terrible things to a person."

Von Karma's face turned reflective. "Indeed. But sensible people deal with it or get help. And foolish people deal with it… foolishly."

"So, uh, you wanted to talk to me?" Ema said.

"My fool of a brother trusts you. So, that is a good start for you in my book. I've read your file of course. Quite remarkable." Ema gaped at her. This was not going at all how she'd imagined. "I wasn't supposed to arrive until Friday," von Karma added and for the first time Ema could see how tired she was. "But then that foolish fool and his foolish obsession got themselves blown up!"

"Obsession?" Ema faltered.

"Phoenix Wright," von Karma snapped. "Miles has been making a perfect fool of himself over the man for years."

"Oh, uh. Yeah." Ema said stupidly. "I know what you mean."

Von Karma peered at her. "Interesting," she said.

"What is?" Ema said, alarmed.

"Most people think I am talking figuratively when I speak about Miles and that foolish attorney. But not you." Von Karma gave her a half smile. The effect was startling, she looked considerably less intimidating and really quite pretty. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Ema Skye. I believe our working relationship will be a productive one."

"Great!" Ema said, determined not to have her head turned. "So, uh, was that all you wanted to say?"

"No," von Karma said. "But it was important to set the parameters of our relationship first. I used to have to work with that moron, Gumshoe." She visibly shuddered. "Now, to business. I have a lot to do and limited time. I have to work FR-3 and the case of the car bomb that blew up Miles Edgeworth and Phoenix Wright. Which has _still_ not been assigned a case number!"

"Oh, uh, Chief Gumshoe probably forgot," Ema said. "I'll remind him later." Von Karma appeared to be gritting her teeth. "I guess you read the FR-3 file on the plane?"

"Of course," Von Karma said, slipping back behind her professional facade. "A perfect prosecution requires perfect preparation," The smile was back. "Or a perfect interrogation. Shall we?"

Feeling more than a little nonplussed, Ema nodded and opened the door. She gestured for von Karma to enter. Von Karma gave her an unfathomable look, and then strode purposefully inside. Ema followed her and tried to regain control of her breathing.

"Well," von Karma said once the door was closed. "We certainly have a lot of foolishness to untangle here."

"Who the fuck are you, the ice bitch queen?" Brandi snarled. The whip cracked, just past her ear and she flinched. "Hey, I got rights!"

"The whip did not touch you," von Karma said coolly. "My aim is perfect. I am Franziska von Karma and I am the new prosecutor assigned to this case."

"Yeah? Well the last one was useless," Brandi said dismissively. "Prosecutors and police, incompetence or corruption, the effect is the same."

"Which is why I have been flown in especially from Germany," von Karma told her. "I am, quite simply, the best prosecutor of my generation. I will tolerate nothing less than perfection. Now, Detective Skye was asking you about how you found Angel Starr."

I was? Ema thought. But she kept her thoughts to herself.

"I got a package in the mail," Brandi said. "About six months ago. It contained some photos of Starr and a sticky note."

"What did the note say?" Ema asked.

"Not much. 'Angel Starr.' That was it." Brandi examined a fingernail for a moment. "I wouldn't have recognized her without the note. To be honest, I didn't really know what to do. Then a letter came. It promised to give me the info I needed to track Starr down, if I did this mysterious person a favor in return."

"What was the favor?"

"It seemed stupid, really," Brandi said. "All they asked was that I find a way to lure Starr to LA and exact my revenge. And for me to deliver a package from Global Studios to some guy at the Lordly Tailor department store."

"Lordly Tailor?" von Karma said sharply. "Who was this 'guy'?"

"I don't remember," Brandi said airily. "Andrew Somebody, I think."

"Adrian Andrews?" von Karma said, her voice cracking. Ema cast her an alarmed look. What the Hell was this all about?

"Yeah, that's him," Brandi said. "Never did meet him, dropped the package off with his assistant. Some mousy chick in glasses." There was a loud crack as the pen in von Karma's hand snapped in two. Ema swallowed. Clearly there was a history here.

"Well," she said, gathering her thoughts. "What happened next?"

"I delivered the package, and a new parcel arrived for me. It had a copy of Starr's Massachusetts driver's license with her new name on it, Stella Celeste if you can believe that. And of course her address. I got hired as a waitress at the Silver Diner and then I sent Starr a message, telling her Joe Darke's sister had been spotted working at a diner in LA, and the stupid bitch took the bait."

"I don't understand," Ema admitted. Out of the corner of her eye she could see von Karma was regaining her composure. "Why would you think that would be enough to convince Starr to abandon witness protection and come to find you?"

"What?" Brandi said. "Have you read none of the original case files? Starr was convinced Joey wasn't alone the night he supposedly killed those people. She had this insane idea that I was in the car with him."

"Why would she think that?" von Karma said, her tone even. Ema breathed a sigh of relief that this unpleasant woman wasn't easily able to get a rise out of von Karma.

"Because they found my purse in his glovebox. I had left it there the week before. Joey used to take me to the theater on Thursday nights because that's when our father would come back from Sacramento."

"That's right," Ema said. "Your father was State Senator Chad Darke. So he lived in Sacramento during the week and came home for weekends? Wouldn't that be something you'd stick around for?"

"And listen to my parents screaming at each other? Mom was convinced Dad was banging his secretary, even though Muriel was older than Grandma. Of course, she was right about him having an affair, just wrong about who the other party was."

"The intern," von Karma said. "A young man who just happened to be the Attorney General's nephew. I remember the scandal. Foolishness."

"So Joey would take me out to a movie every Thursday, to let Mom and Dad have their fight," Brandi said, hugging herself. "And that Thursday I left my purse in his car. He was supposed to come over and drop it off on Monday night. But instead, he got arrested for murder!"

"So Starr thought you were an accessory or even an accomplice?" Ema asked.

"I guess," Brandi said. "She was an idiot."

"On that we can agree," von Karma said. "I suggest you find yourself a lawyer, Ms Snapps. I see you still haven't selected counsel."

"I'm trying to convince Martha Bose to take my case," Brandi said. Von Karma laughed, a strange metallic sound. Ema thought it was more for effect than genuine amusement. What a strange and intriguing woman she was!

"Martha Bose Jr won't take your case," von Karma told the irritated young woman. "You've already confessed to the crime and there is considerable evidence against you. Going up against me with such a portfolio of evidence would be very foolish, and Martha Bose is no fool." She regarded Snapps for a moment and the produced a card from her vest. "Talk to Milton Grossberg. He specializes in lost causes like yours."

"Why would I take advice from a prosecutor on which lawyer to hire?" Brandi hissed.

"Because I do not need to cheat to win my cases," von Karma told her. "Grossberg is your best shot at a plea deal. He'll keep you off death row, and may even get you a sentence short enough that you get paroled before you die of old age."

Brandi gaped at her and then burst into tears.

"Spare me such foolishness," von Karma said indifferently and stood up. "Detective Skye?" She sailed out of the room and Ema was left to once more trail in her wake.

* * *

Simon was stood in front of the dry-erase board, still in Klavier's living room. Athena watched him as he seemed to be deep in thought. Taka made a soft sound and he looked over his shoulder.

"Athena," he said, a slight smile on his face.

"You look better," she said.

He gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Drowning myself in self-pity isn't really my style," he said with a wolfish grin. "And we have a mystery to solve."

"All right," Athena said, punching the air. He raised an eyebrow at her. "Hey, it's been a tough few days. How about we go for a run first, shake off a few cobwebs?"

"Not right now," Simon said. "I feel like I'm on the edge of a breakthrough."

"OK," Athena said, sitting on the couch with her legs tucked under her. "So talk me through it. Maybe that will shake something loose."

Simon took a couple of deep breaths, as if ordering his thoughts.

"Will Powers was killed by someone dressed as the Steel Samurai. With the Samurai Spear no less."

"Right," Athena agreed. "The Steel Samurai isn't as popular as it once was, although there's still a loyal following online and a huge fanfiction community still writing about the characters. So getting hold of a costume wouldn't be too hard. Or maybe they made it, I mean some of the cosplay folks put a crazy amount of work into getting their costumes just right."

"Except, this wasn't a fan made costume or a cheap copy made for sale to the public. It was an original costume, stolen from the Global Studios museum."

"I didn't know that," Athena said.

"It's in the file," Simon said mildly, waving a hand at the pile of papers and cardboard folders on the coffee table. "But it was buried deep in the preamble of the forensic report."

"OK, so someone broke into Global Studios and stole an original costume, to commit murder? Seems a bit… elaborate."

"Exactly," Simon said. "This is the whole problem with this case. It's so intricate, unnecessarily so it would seem."

Athena jumped up and scribbled a note about the costume on the whiteboard. "What are you getting at, Simon?"

"I don't know," he said in frustration. "I just have this feeling that there's something staring us in the face and we can't see it."

"OK, did you find anything else in the Powers murder that seemed odd?" Athena asked.

"Not really. A few small things, this receipt from Lordly Tailor for a decorative statuette seemed a little out of place but is probably some trash that just happened to be dropped at the scene." He offered it to Athena. She peered at it. "Is this… blood?"

"Yes," Simon said, rifling through the files. "But not Powers. We assume it was from his assailant, the spear was quite sharp." He found the forensic report on the blood from the receipt and handed it to her.

"Are you sure?" Athena said. Simon frowned at her and she waved the report at him. "This says the blood is female."

"So?"

"So, that spear is huge, and heavy. According to the report it weighs about 30 pounds. How many women could wield it at all?" Athena said. "And the costume too. Will Powers was 6 feet tall and broad-shouldered. The spear and costume were made for him. Any woman using them would have to be almost as tall. The average height for a woman in the US is five feet four inches. A six foot woman would be two standard deviations above the mean."

"I hate statistics," Simon grumbled. "What does that mean?"

"It means that 95% of women will be shorter than 6 feet tall." Athena said patiently. "So either we have a very tall, probably pretty muscular woman committing this crime - no waif-like supermodel our murderous woman - or this blood came from somewhere else, or someone else was at the crime scene."

Simon was staring at her, for so long Athena was starting to become unnerved. "You're a genius, Athena. We've missed something."

"I am? We have?" Athena said, blushing.

"Yes," Simon said. "I agree, a woman tall and strong enough to wield such a weapon is possible, but she'd have been very noticeable. The CCTV around Powers's apartment building didn't show the killer in costume until they were in the elevator. Which means they changed into the costume once they'd entered the building. We haven't identified everyone who was there that day, but a large woman like that would have been remembered."

"So, let's drop that idea to the bottom of the list," Athena said, picking up the thread. "What's next?"

"If the receipt had picked up the blood somewhere else, perhaps in an innocent fashion, then it's a dead end. But if someone else was there that day, it puts a different complexion on the crime. Either she was an innocent bystander and witness and has been too scared to come forward…"

"Or she was an accomplice!" Widget finished triumphantly.

"But there was only the killer, in costume, in the elevator," Simon said.

"Yeah, because who wants to go up or down stairs in that cumbersome thing?" Athena pointed out. "If the accomplice wasn't in a costume, they could easily run down the stairs, maybe to get the getaway car started?"

"What do we know about that car?" Simon asked, holding out his hand for the file. Athena handed the CCTV images to him.

"Late model Mercedes C-class, dark color. Camera was black and white, so we don't know exactly what color, except that it probably wasn't black, it doesn't look quite that dark."

"Not exactly an uncommon car," Simon said ruefully.

"No," Athena agreed. "But it had one distinguishing feature." She pointed to the photograph and Simon's eyebrows all but disappeared into his hairline.

"You're not serious," he said. "How did this get missed?"

"Because we were distracted by the costume," Athena suggested.

"Federal Government plates," Simon said, shaking his head. "This is an appalling oversight, Athena."

"It's a pity we can't make out the agency," Athena said. "That would narrow it down a lot."

"The detail on this camera isn't good enough," Simon lamented.

"Come on, Simon," Athena said bracingly. "How many Mercedes C-classes with Federal plates can there be?"

* * *

Apollo could hear voices from elsewhere in the house. Athena by the sounds of it, and a baritone rumble that was probably Simon. Klavier was curled up into a ball, his head pressed against Apollo's chest. He reached down and carded his fingers through the strands of blond hair. Klavier blinked his eyes a few times and looked up.

"Hey," Apollo said softly. "How are you doing?"

Klavier nodded slowly. "Better," he said. "The shock was…" he broke off and gave a humorless laugh. "A shock."

"Yeah," Apollo agreed. "Do you want to talk?"

"What is there to say?" Klavier said. "I've known this day was coming for a long time. And part of me is relieved he's gone and then another part of me hates myself for feeling that way."

"I know what you mean," Apollo said reflectively. "I keep telling myself it's natural to feel this way. He was a big part of my life, gave me my first break. And working for him wasn't a bad experience, it's why finding out what he'd been doing was so unexpected. He wasn't some cackling villain like on TV, he was a real, complicated person and I guess one hell of a compartmentalizer."

"In that we are very alike, mein bruder and I," Klavier said.

"I'm not saying it's a bad thing, really," Apollo clarified. "Just that it made it harder to see who he really was."

"I need to find out how this happened," Klavier said.

"Are you sure you want to know?" Apollo asked.

Klavier's face took on a pinched expression. "Perhaps not. But I have to know, Apollo."

"All right," Apollo said. "Do you feel up to some company? I think Athena and Simon are here."

"Yes," Klavier said. "I cannot hide in here like ein feigling."

"English, Klavier."

"A coward."

* * *

The studio door opened and revealed a pale-faced Trucy emerging from inside.

"Hey, Trucy," Athena said as brightly as she could. "What would like to eat tonight?"

"I don't care," Trucy said listlessly.

"Trucy, your father will pull through," Simon said suddenly. "I swear it upon my sword. And if he does not, his enemies will feel it's edge."

"Simon!" Athena shrieked. But Trucy smiled and gave Simon a perfectly executed bow. He grinned back at her. "This is not appropriate," Athena complained.

"The question still stands," Simon said. "I'm not much of a cook."

"I'm OK," Athena confessed, "but I hate it."

"I'll cook," a new voice said. Klavier walked into the room, Apollo on his heels.

"Uh, that's nice of you but you don't have to do that," Athena stammered.

"It's no trouble, fraulein," Klavier said. "I like to cook. Come Apollo, you can be my sous-chef."

"What does that involve?" Apollo said suspiciously.

"It means you're second in command," Athena told him.

"It means he bosses you around the kitchen," Simon corrected.

"Nein," Klavier denied. "It means I get to give him all the jobs that require bending over!" Apollo gaped at him, his face flaming. Klavier gave him an unrepentant grin and sauntered off towards the kitchen. Apparently the facade was back in place once more. Apollo took one look at Athena's face and raced after him.

"Did you have to do that?" he demanded when they reached the refrigerator.

"Do what?" Klavier said innocently.

"You might as well have put a big neon sign over our heads!" Apollo snapped.

"You think they didn't know, schatzi?" Klavier said mildly.

"They might have suspected," Apollo allowed. "But that's not the point."

Klavier looked unhappy. "Are you… ashamed to be with me, Apollo?"

"What? No!"

"Then why should your friends not know?" he pressed.

"Because we haven't even been on a proper date yet," Apollo said. He wasn't sure why that made a difference. "I don't want them to think…"

"What?" Klavier said sharply. "That you're an easy lay for someone like me?"

"No," Apollo mumbled. "That's not what I meant."

"Ja, what you meant is, you planned to keep it a secret. Because you didn't want your friends to judge you. Because I am louche and sleeping with me stains your reputation?"

"No!" Apollo insisted. "I just wasn't ready for anyone to know yet. And because…" he swallowed. "Because I care about you and there's a madman running around targeting Mr Wright and Mr Edgeworth and who knows who else will catch his eye?"

"You're worried about me?" Klavier said wonderingly. "Forehead, that's very sweet but you can't let this asshole dictate how you live your life."

"All right," Apollo grumbled. "I'm sorry. Are we friends?"

Klavier pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. "Of course. Now, let's see what we have in the fridge."


	14. Chapter 14

"I need to eat," Franziska announced. "I don't suppose there is anything remotely edible near here."

"Depends on what you like," Detective Skye said. "I take it fast food doesn't appeal." Franziska wrinkled her nose. "What about seafood?"

"That could be tolerable," Franziska allowed. She eyed the young detective for a moment. She was an interesting person, and one whose short life had included more tragedy than seemed fair. Her failure to qualify as a forensic investigator loomed large and normally Franziska had little time for anything less than perfection. But given the circumstances, it was incredible she had achieved as much as she had.

"There's a nice seafood place, about four blocks from here," Detective Skye said. "And it's a very clear evening, so it should be a pleasant walk."

"Is it likely to be crowded?" Franziska asked. "I am not… comfortable with busy places this evening."

"It's only really busy at the weekend," Detective Skye told her. "During the week it's usually quiet. Plus they know me there, and they know I like to hide away in the corner."

"I take it you eat there often," Franziska surmised. "You work a lot of late nights?"

"Yeah," Skye agreed. "I've not got much to go home to, other than my goldfish Marlo, and he's not much of a conversationalist." She flushed as she obviously realized she'd given away more than she intended to. "That makes me sound like some kind of loser with no friends, which is totally not true. But I guess I'm something of a loner?"

"Friendships are about quality, not quantity," Franziska opined, feeling an unusually strong sense of empathy with the young detective. She squashed the feeling down, there was much to do and feeling sorry for someone who clearly had no use for it was unproductive. "Let's go try out this restaurant."

Skye had been right, the evening was pleasant. It was warm, but not humid and a light breeze ruffled Franziska's hair. Skye walked quietly beside her, but it was not an uncomfortable silence. So many people felt the need to fill up empty air with inane chatter. She appreciated this woman's comfort with stillness.

Mackenzies was a small, family-run restaurant of the kind that was increasingly rare these days. Inside was decorated in tasteful art-deco, with an understated nautical theme. It was a curious combination but worked well. Franziska perused the menu, which was quite short.

"The menu changes every week," Skye explained. "The chef won't use frozen fish, so it's all about what he can get in fresh. No Alaska farmed salmon or crabs flown in from Maryland. It's all locally caught and processed."

The waiter brought the wine list and Franziska waved him away with a demand for sparkling water. Skye ordered a mojito and sipped at it when it arrived, her tension visibly melting away. The short menu made decisions quite easy, Franziska chose the white sea bass with a garlic butter sauce and a green salad. She watched Skye biting her lip as she tried to decide. The waiter came over and asked if she had any questions.

"I can't tell if I want the halibut or the yellow-tail," she told him.

"The yellowtail," the young man advised. "It's really excellent."

"OK," Skye said, sounding relieved. "I'll take that with the fennel salad."

"Wonderful," the waiter said. "Would you like some bread for the table?" Skye nodded and he bustled off.

"So," Franziska said, "We should talk about the bombing."

"Oh!" Skye said. "I got an email from Chief Gumshoe. The case number is NM-1."

"Finally," Franziska grumbled. "So what do we know?"

"I talked to the lab guys," Skye said. The waiter placed bread, olive oil and vinegar in front of them. She tore off a piece of bread and made a pool of oil and vinegar on her side plate. "The bomb was an improvised device, the kind you can find on the internet in about ten seconds. And I'm not talking about the dark web either. The only item which wasn't super-generic and available at your local Home Depot was the cellphone timer."

"Cellphones are hardly a rare or unusual item," Franziska objected.

"Agreed, but this was an old model. And more importantly it had a limited edition Steel Samurai strap on it."

"That foolish television program my fool of a brother spends too much money on?" Franziska said derisively. "I thought it was over."

"Oh it is," Skye agreed. "But there's still a big fanbase. A bit like fans of the original Star Trek or things like that. And like I say, the phone was old. Maybe ten, twelve years old. Back then the Steel Samurai was everywhere."

"Does the strap have a serial number or anything we can use to trace it?" Franziska asked. The waiter appeared with their food and placed the plates down carefully. He smiled at them and withdrew.

Skye shook her head regretfully. "Unfortunately, no. But my thinking is that this wasn't a coincidence. I mean, anyone can pick up a cheap, anonymous burner phone almost anywhere these days. Why use an old phone with a distinctive strap?"

"Perhaps it was just lying around unused," Franziska suggested. "I think we're wasting valuable time on this foolish object."

"I disagree," Skye said and Franziska blinked in surprise. She hadn't expected to be challenged. "I think it's a message."

"A message? One that was blown to pieces by a bomb?" Franziska waved her fork at Skye. "What would be the message?"

"I don't know," Skye said. "Did Mr Edgeworth fill you in on the serial killer case?"

"Foolish fools," Franziska snorted. "I'm not at all convinced this is a case at all."

"Why not?" Skye retorted. "You can't deny there are some odd connections and similarities."

"Different MO's, different signatures, a variety of victim types. The only solid connection you have is that they were all involved in cases that my brother prosecuted or Phoenix Wright defended. Miles Edgeworth was a prolific prosecutor before he made Chief, almost as good as myself, and Phoenix Wright, for all that he is the most foolish fool ever to fool around, was a hard-working attorney, at least until he was disbarred. It's a coincidence."

"What about the shooting?" Skye shot back. "And now, a bomb?"

Franziska took another bite of her fish, which was really excellent and savored it as she thought.

"I will concede that the bomb-maker and the shooter are probably the same person," she said finally. "I need to spend time on the other case files before I will see any other connections."

"All right," Skye said. "That's fair. I've been hip-deep in this case from the beginning. You're still getting up to speed."

"I am perfectly conversant with all the facts," Franziska snapped and Skye flinched. She sighed. "I apologize, it's late and I am very tired. Perhaps we should speak of something else."

"OK," Skye said nervously.

* * *

Klavier's cooking skills proved to be quite good, as everyone declared as they ate. The grilled chicken was moist, the asparagus spears tender and the roasted potatoes rich with garlic.

"Mr Gavin," Trucy said, when she'd finished eating. "I'm sorry about what happened. With your brother. It must be hard."

Klavier swallowed hard and took a large swig of water. He gave her a weak smile. "It is hard, fraulein. But thank you. Do not worry about me, you have plenty on your own plate right now."

Trucy looked down. "Yeah."

"Ach, Fraulein Trucy, I didn't mean…" Klavier broke off when there was a knock at the door.

He frowned in confusion, Edgeworth had a key and he couldn't think who else who would come so late in the evening unannounced. He got up and walked to the door warily. Simon stood up and followed silently. He opened the door cautiously and yelped when he was enveloped in a cloud of pastel-colored garments and black hair.

"Klav!" Maya Fey declared happily.

"Maya," he said warmly. He'd met Phoenix's longtime friend last year when she'd come down from Kurain for Christmas and they'd instantly hit it off. She was the only one he allowed to call him Klav, however.

"How are you?" she demanded. "How's Nick?"

"I'm… OK," he said. "Phoenix is… not so good."

"Oh my God!" she shrieked. "Mr Edgeworth said he was going to be OK! Did he lie to me?"

"No," Klavier said, patting her shoulder and stepping back. "He just didn't want you to worry."

A head bobbed around Maya's shoulder and Klavier winked at her. "Hello, Fraulein Pearl."

"Hi, Mr Gavin," Pearl said shyly.

Trucy stumbled over and threw herself into Maya's arms. "Auntie Maya," she said, her voice breaking. "I'm so glad you're here."

Maya's face was a riot of emotion. Klavier stepped back and let them have some space. Pearl gave him a look far wiser than her years. "I'll make a room up for you," he told her. "Give me your suitcase and follow me." He took the rolling suitcase from her hand and strode down the hall, Pearl bringing up the rear.

* * *

"Tell me more about Detective Monroe," von Karma said suddenly. Ema frowned at her, perturbed.

"He and I don't get along," she said cautiously. "I think he's lazy and sloppy. I've heard rumors that he's even gone so far as to fabricate evidence, but I've no proof of that other than gossip."

"I remember him, vaguely, as a newly recruited young officer, back when Phoenix Wright first appeared on the scene," von Karma said. "Wright's a fool, as I've said before, bumbling along through life almost by accident. He offended that young policeman, and didn't even know he'd done it."

"How?" Ema asked. Von Karma's face was extraordinarily expressive, she thought.

"It was his first real investigation, and it was into the murder of his own mentor," Franziska reminisced. "Miles was tied up into a dozen knots over the case, foolish man, because he'd known Mia Fey and respected her. Monroe was one of the first officers on the scene, reporting directly to Scruffy."

"Scruffy?"

"Gumshoe," von Karma spat. "The story goes that after that case, Monroe was reassigned to work with Detective Goodman."

"Why was he reassigned?" Ema asked curiously.

"Because Scruffy is a foolish fool by anyone's standards but even he won't actually fake evidence. Monroe was caught by another officer trying to transfer a fingerprint from a reference sample to the murder weapon."

"Oh my God!" Ema exclaimed in horror. "Why was he not fired?"

"He was Chief Gant's second cousin," von Karma said witheringly. She finished the last morsel on her plate and pushed it away.

"It's funny," Ema said, chewing contemplatively. "That's the second time this week I've heard someone talk about old Chief Gant keeping incompetent or corrupt people around."

"Really?" von Karma said, her eyes alight. Ema shifted uncomfortably under that laser-like focus. "Who was the first?"

"Prosecutor Payne," Ema said. "Winston Payne, the one who was just murdered."

"Hmm," von Karma said.

"Anyway, how does this relate to Mr Wright and Detective Monroe? Did Mr Wright catch him in the act?" Ema asked her.

"What? No. No, it was something else. Monroe is one of life's sycophants. Idolized my brother for some foolish reason. He was appalled when Phoenix Wright won that case, but that in itself wouldn't be enough. No, that came later, after the trial. Monroe developed an unhealthy interest in Wright's young friend and sister to the victim, Maya Fey. He tried to get closer to her, without success. Wright always managed to be in the right place to thwart him. I don't think it was deliberate. Wright's too foolish to be so observant." Von Karma's face visibly evinced her disgust.

"How come you remember this so well?" Ema said.

"Maya Fey and I are the same age," von Karma told her. "I had watched the whole case from the public gallery of course, with my father, and he was the one who first witnessed Monroe's behavior around her. He mentioned it to me in passing, as an object lesson in dealing with men in my life." A strange look passed over her face and Ema wondered what it meant. "I do not think he would like the lesson I learned."

Ema stared at her, unsure what this meant but unwilling to come out and ask. It sounded… personal and the word on the street was you did not get personal with Franziska von Karma. She looked down at her plate as a way of escaping the awkward moment.

"Prosecutor von Karma," she said after a moment.

"Franziska," von Karma corrected.

"Uh, Franziska," Ema said. "Do you want dessert?" Von Karma… no Franziska raked a hand through her hair, disturbing its perfection. Ema's fingers twitched.

"No," she said. "I am exhausted."

"Then can I offer you a ride to your hotel?" Ema offered. "Or are you staying at the Gavin house?"

"I was going to stay with my brother," Franziska said coolly.

"Mr Edgeworth is staying at the glimmerous fop's house," Ema explained. "We have evidence that the serial killer has been able to access his apartment and we felt it advisable to move him to another secure location."

"I'm not sure I can cope with Klavier Gavin right now," Franziska sighed.

"I hear you," Ema agreed. "Do you want to go to a hotel? Or uh, I have a spare room."

Franziska eyed her for a moment and Ema worried that she'd overstepped her bounds.

"That's very generous," she said, "but I think I will go to the Gatewater. I have a conference call with my colleagues in Germany at midnight. I don't wish to disturb you."

"OK," Ema said. "Let me get the check and then I'll drop you off." She raised a hand and signalled to the waiter.

When he brought the check over in its little leather folder, Ema reached for it and Franziska's hand came down on top of her's.

"I will get this," Franziska said.

"Oh, no, you don't have to do that," Ema stuttered.

"No," Franziska agreed. "But I want to." Ema considered fighting her on this, but the feel of Franziska's hand was distracting and before she knew it the prosecutor had slid the folder towards her and placed a silvery credit card inside.

"Thank you for a very tolerable evening," Franziska said as she signed the receipt. "I apologize for not being better company."

"No, you were fine," Ema protested. "Really, it was nice to go out to dinner with someone for once." She kicked herself. Way to make yourself sound totally pathetic, Skye!

But Franziska smiled at her. "Yes," she said. "It was."

* * *

It was a little after eight when Ema knocked on Klavier's door. Everyone was sat around the kitchen table eating breakfast, except for Trucy, Klavier and Apollo. She blinked at the sight of Maya and Pearl Fey, in the midst of it all.

"Where's the fop?" she demanded.

Simon raised an eyebrow at her. "In his room, I would imagine," he said.

"Well, someone needs to go get him," Ema said. "And Apollo. You all need to hear this. Is Trucy here?"

"No, she's at school," Athena told her. "Don't tell me she needs to hear this too? I just dropped her off."  
"No, no. I actually wanted to be sure she wasn't going to overhear this." Ema said.

Athena's stomach flipped over. "I'll go get Apollo and Klavier."

"I take it you've made a breakthrough," Simon said easily.

Ema nodded, her face grim. "Yes. At least, I have some new leads for us to follow."

"You're going to find who did this to Nick?" Maya said fiercely.

Pearl shoved up the sleeves of her robe, her face even more scary than Maya's. "Yeah. He's going to be sorry."

"Of course," Ema said, slightly disturbed. Never piss off a Fey, she thought to herself.

Klavier emerged, his face gray and his hair tied in a rough ponytail. Ema had never seen him looking so… rough. Apollo was behind him, one hand on his arm and Athena was shooing them both towards the table.

"All right," Ema said. "Hang on to your hats because this is gonna be one hell of a ride." Everyone stared at her. "OK, first of all, Franziska's here. She arrived last night."

"Who?" Athena asked.

"Prosecutor von Karma," Klavier said. "Edgeworth's sister." He turned to Ema with one raised eyebrow. "You're on first name terms?"

"Nonsense," Simon said. "Von Karma-san isn't on first name terms with anyone."

Ema shrugged, pretending disinterest. "She told me to call her Franziska," she replied.

"Hmm," Simon said, giving her a penetrating look.

"OK, so Franziska's up to date on the serial killer case," Ema continued, ignoring him.

"How is that even possible?" Apollo objected. "Even if she read the case file on the plane, a lot's happened in the last 24 hours."

"We went to dinner last night and I filled her in," Ema explained. She flushed at the general expressions of shock and surprise.

"You went to dinner. With Prosecutor von Karma." Klavier said in astonishment.

"Yes. She's a human being. She eats food," Ema retorted, exasperated. "It was late and she was tired from a long flight. She needed to eat and then get some sleep."

"Of course," Klavier said. "But there's a lot more to going to dinner than eating food. She could have gone to her hotel and got room service."

"I don't know," Ema said. "I can only tell you what happened. Are you calling me a liar?"

"Nein, fraulein," Klavier said. "It's just… out of character."

"OK, whatever. She's looking over the cases assigned to Winston and Gaspen Payne this morning." Ema said. "Let's talk about the leads I mentioned."

"I'll make some more coffee," Maya said. "Why don't you all head into the living room where the whiteboard is. Pearl, you can help me clean up." Pearl pouted but didn't complain.

Once everyone was comfortably established on the couches and all eyes trained on Ema, Maya called a taxi to the hospital.

"Let's go see Nick," she said to Pearl. "Leave the investigating to them."

"We're pretty good investigators too!" Pearl objected.

"I know," Maya said. "But I really need to see Nick first. Please, Pearly. I can't do this on my own."

Pearl took her hand. "OK, Mystic Maya. Let's go see Mr Nick."

* * *

"So I followed up on the car that Athena and Prosecutor Blackquill realized had federal plates." Ema said. She produced a sheaf of papers. "Unfortunately, there are 3000 Mercedes C class cars registered across the various federal agencies."

"Wow," Athena commented.

"Who knew?" Widget agreed.

Ema waved the papers. "I've gone through and crossed off all white and silver ones. I've also put aside the black ones for now, because I agree with Athena that the car is a dark color but probably not black. So we're left with just 400 cars, in red, blue and brown."

"Brown?" Apollo said, wrinkling his nose. "Odd color for a car."

"Perhaps," Ema said. "It's not important. What is important is where these cars are. There are 73 in California. Another 28 if you add Oregon and Washington states. 32 in Arizona. 12 in Nevada."

"Which agencies?" Simon asked.

"Well, that's where it gets complicated," Ema responded. "But I had the photograph enhanced. Look at this." She pulled out her tablet and showed them the enhanced zoom of the plate. It was still too blurry to read completely but the pattern was clear. "See how there's a letter with two numbers, and then some other larger numbers."

"Yeah," Apollo said, peering at it. "Looks like a G13 or G18, then a 4, not sure about the next two. Then a 6 and a 1."

"So it's G13," Ema told him. "That's a GSA general motor pool car. The 13 refers to the type of vehicle."  
"So how are you so sure it's not G18?" Apollo said, squinting at it again.

"Easy. There is no G18 designation."

"Well, if it's a general motor pool car, that doesn't get us a lot further forward." Simon said.

"Agreed," Ema said. But it does narrow the list a bit. The numbers Apollo read out narrow it even more. We're now down to less than 20 cars. Nine of which are in California. Four are right here in Los Angeles."

"If they're general motor pool cars, is there anyway to find out who's using them?" Apollo asked.

"I've put in a request for information with the GSA," Ema replied. "But you know the government, the cogs grind slow. So it'll be a while before we get anything back. But I'm giving you all the files on the California cars so you can be on the lookout. If we see one of them, maybe that'll give me more ammunition to light a fire under some civil servants."

"Somehow, I don't think she's being hyperbolic," Apollo whispered to Klavier.

Ema glared at him. "The second lead we have comes from the interview Franziska and I conducted with Brandi Darke Snapps. According to her, she found out about Angel Starr's new identity and location from a mysterious correspondent. He or she sent her all the information she needed to lure Starr to LA, in exchange for Snapps promising to kill Starr here not in Boston, and deliver a package from Global Studios to Lordly Tailor. Specifically, to an Adrian Andrews. I'm going to interview Andrews this morning."

"Is Von Karma-san going with you?" Blackquill asked, seeming tense.

"No, she said it might be better if she didn't go. I get the impression there's some kind of history between the two of them?"

"You could say that," Klavier said. "There was a time when everyone thought they might marry. But something happened, I don't know what, and Franziska called it off. Left for Germany the next day. It was an oddly emotional reaction for her."

"Marry?" Ema said, feeling strangely dismayed. "I'm going to talk to her ex-fiancé?"

"Yes," Klavier said, giving her a curious look.

"Do you want any of us to come with you?" Apollo asked and Ema gave a relieved sigh.

"Yes, please. I was hoping you or Athena would come. I need someone good at spotting lies and both of you are gifted in that department."

"I'll go," Athena said. "Simon?"

"Two is enough. Let's not spook the potential witness," Blackquill grunted.

"Good. So I have one more lead for follow up if anyone is interested," Ema said hopefully.

"Shoot," Apollo said.

"So this relates to the bombing. The timer was an old cellphone with a limited edition Steel Samurai strap. It seemed significant to me, like a message." She handed a photograph of the strap and the remaining plastic fragments to Apollo.

"OK," he said. "I'll look into it once I've come back from the hospital."

"Oh, of course," Ema said, biting her lip. "Athena, did you want to visit the hospital too, before we go to Lordly Tailor?"

"If you don't mind?" Athena said.

"It's no problem," Ema assured her. "The store doesn't open until ten. So we've got plenty of time."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Lovely readers, thank you for your patience and all your comments! I'm sorry this has been on hiatus for so long. I got a case of writer's block on this story and couldn't figure out how to get out of it. But I'm out of it now and will try and update more regularly. Thank you to everyone for sticking with me and the comments really did help motivate me to come back to this fic.**

* * *

The door opened with a creak and Miles snapped awake, adrenaline pumping. He'd not told anyone why he was staying with Wright all the time, letting them assume it was just concern for his friend. In truth, although that was certainly part of it, it was also because he was worried the bomber might show up here. But his fears were unfounded, at least this time, as he was enveloped in hair and robes.

"Maya," he said affectionately. "It's been too long."

"Well, who's fault's that?" she said tartly. "You travel too much."

"Guilty," he agreed.

Maya untangled herself and moved over to Wright's bed, her eyes shimmering. "Is he going to be OK?"

"The doctors say we just have to be patient," Miles told her. "Wright slammed his head pretty hard from the force of the blast and it cracked his skull. There was bleeding into his brain. They operated and kept him unconscious to let him heal."

"Are they still keeping him in the coma?" Maya asked.

"No, that's all his doing now. He'll wake up when his body is ready."

"Mr Miles?" a tentative voice came from behind him.

"Pearl," he said. "Come in, don't hover by the door."

"Mr Nick!" she wailed, pushing past him and flying to Wright's side. "Wake up, Mr Nick."

Maya touched his arm. "He's sleeping, Pearly. He needs rest to get better."

"Can't we do anything?" Pearl begged.

"No," Maya said sadly, shaking her head. "Nick has to do this by himself."

"That's not entirely true," Miles corrected. "Dr Park said that talking to him will help him find his way back."

"Really?" Maya said. "We can do that, can't we Pearly?" She eyed Miles critically. "When was the last time you went home?"

"I've not left since… the incident," Miles admitted. Maya put her hands on her hips. "Hey, I was looking out for Wright!"

"Well, I'm here now," Maya said. "Go home, get some food and some sleep."

"I can't," Miles said helplessly. "I can't leave him here like this."

Maya's face went soft. "I know. But you're not doing him any good in the state you're in."

There was a light tap at the door and Athena stuck her head in.

"Hey," she said. "Apollo and I are here. Can we come in?"

"It's getting a little crowded," Miles told her. "So let's keep it short."

Athena and Apollo squeezed into the room and gathered around the bed with Maya and Pearl.

After a few moments, Apollo stepped away and sidled up to Miles. "Has there been any change?"

"No," Miles said heavily.

"Your sister's here," Apollo told him. "Apparently she took Ema to dinner last night."

Miles stared at him, one eyebrow raised. "She texted me last night when she arrived. I thought she was going straight to the hotel."

"Not according to Ema," Apollo said. "Listen, there's something else you should know. Adrian Andrews name came up in the interrogation of Brandi Darke Snapps."

Miles's mouth dropped open in surprise and horror. "Oh no. Is Franziska…"

"Ema's interviewing her this morning. Athena's going with her. I don't think Prosecutor von Karma is planning to be there."  
"Good," Miles said with relief. "I don't want Andrews and Franziska anywhere near each other."

"You know, I never did find out what happened between them," Apollo said, giving Miles a sidelong glance.

"Well, you're not going to hear it from me," Miles said stiffly.

Apollo backed off. "Sorry. You're right, I'm being rude. Look, Blackquill and Klavier are outside if you want to talk to them."

Miles watched the scene around Wright's bed for a moment. "Fine," he said finally. "I'll be back soon."

* * *

Outside Blackquill and Gavin were conversing in low tones and Ema was reading something on her phone.

"Blackquill," Miles said. "Gavin, Skye." Ema looked up. "I need updates."

Ema cast a look at the two prosecutors and then looked back at Miles. In short, clipped tones she related their lead on the getaway car from the Will Powers murder and the full story of Brandi Snapps's interrogation.

"And your sister wants to reinstate me," Blackquill added. "She called me this morning, says she's making a case to the judge."

"Oh?" Miles said, surprised.

"I'm getting a six week suspension and docked three months pay. The suspension will be itself suspended, until the current crisis is resolved."

"The current crisis?" Miles echoed.

"The serial killer," Blackquill said. "Which, by the way, von Karma-san does not believe in."

"Of course she doesn't," Miles said, half-smiling. "She no doubt thinks it is conjecture and overreaction."

"Quite," Blackquill agreed.

Klavier had been silent, studying him as Blackquill talked. But now he spoke up. "Can I have a private word, Chief Prosecutor?"

Miles blinked at the formality. "Of course. Blackquill, I'll speak with you again later." He headed down the hall and heard Gavin follow.

"I don't want to ask you this, but I have to know," Gavin said in a low, harsh voice. "Did you arrange to have my brother's execution date moved?"

"Yes," Miles admitted. He saw no reason to deny it. It wasn't like he was going to be able to keep this a secret, now that the papers would have been filed.

"I see," Gavin said icily. "And you did not think I would have wanted to know?"

"No," Miles said. "I'm certain you would have wanted to know. But this was a formal request from your brother to the Governor of California. He did not want you to attend. I made arrangements to petition Governor Kaling directly and she granted the request."

"Why?" Gavin demanded. "Why would you do such a thing?"

"He was threatening to sue over his solitary confinement on constitutional grounds. I thought that case might have legs. So did a good friend of mine, who's a constitutional scholar at Ivy University. It's an election year and Governor Kaling is not doing so well in the polls that she could afford the scandal," Miles explained.

Gavin was holding his head in his hands. "I don't understand," he said brokenly. "Why would Kristoph not want me there at the end?"  
"I don't know," Miles confessed. "I can only speculate. Perhaps he didn't want that to be your strongest memory of him. Maybe he was trying to protect you, in his way."

Gavin looked at him, his face bitter. "It's unlikely. I think this was a final 'fuck you'. He would have known how much it would hurt when I found out. Bastard was twisting the knife!"

"Perhaps," Miles agreed. "But the law is clear. Once he petitioned for the date change, and the secrecy, I had an obligation."

"Obligations be damned!" Gavin exclaimed. "What about your obligations to me?"

"If it's any consolation, Wright disagreed with me on this. We argued quite fiercely about it."

Gavin stepped back in consternation. "Phoenix Wright knew? He knew and said nothing?"

"He wouldn't have dared," Miles said coolly. "I made the consequences quite clear."

"How did he even find out?"

"I took him to the meeting with Governor Kaling," Miles explained. "He was really very angry with me about it."

"Mein Gott," the blond said, visibly appalled. "What kind of cold-hearted thing is that to do to your best friend?"

"I needed his help," Miles retorted.

"Kristoph is the reason Phoenix was disbarred. With my unknowing assistance. But of course you didn't think about that, because where were you when your friend needed you? Thousands of miles away, and you didn't even come back to see him." Gavin shook his head. "Why he remains friends with you I'll never understand. You use people and then you toss them aside."

"I know you're grieving but you go too far," Miles barked. Several people in the corridor turned to look at them.

"Do I?" Gavin challenged. "Or do I not go far enough? Phoenix Wright has been unswervingly loyal to you, through events that would have destroyed a lesser man. They almost did destroy him. You didn't see him, after his license was revoked. I thought that first year he might drink himself to death. If it hadn't been for Trucy, I don't think he would have made it. He deserves better friends than you."

"Your hands aren't clean here," Miles retorted, his anger flaring.

"I haven't forgotten," Gavin said icily. "But I have done everything I could to make up for that. And for the gottverlassenen mess that mein bruder made of everything." He breathed in and out through his nose. "I'll be handing in my resignation."

"What? No!" Miles cried. "We're already short-handed. You can't."

"I can," Gavin replied. "I'm going to speak with von Karma. I'll finish up my extant cases and then I'm gone."

"Gavin, please," Miles begged. "Try and understand. I was trying to do the right thing."

"Really?" Gavin said. "Sounds to me like you were trying to protect yourself and damn anyone else who got hurt. This serial killer isn't after Phoenix Wright, is he? He's after you, just as we speculated a few nights ago. I think you've known this for a while and you're using the rest of us as a shield. Well, I for one am done." He turned on his heel and stalked away, leaving Miles to lean against the wall and let despair wash over him.

"You've pissed the fop off, good and proper," a voice observed sarcastically. "What can you have done to achieve that?"

"Detective Skye, I think you forget yourself," Miles snapped.

"Probably," she agreed. "But somebody's gotta speak truth to power. You fucked up. Bad. I mean, I'm not exactly the fop's biggest fan, but even I could tell that whatever it is you've done, you've hurt him. That's not easy to do. So is this about Apollo? Did you tell him to back off?"

"Apollo?" Miles said stupidly. "What?"

"Not Apollo then," Skye decided. "Which means this is about Kristoph Gavin's execution."

"When did you get so knowledgeable about human psychology," Miles said nastily.

He might as well have kept his mouth shut, Skye was unperturbed. "I'm a detective, remember?" She eyed him up and down. "I'm not your enemy here, but you're shedding friends like autumn leaves and you can't afford that right now."

Miles raked a hand through his hair and gave her an appraising look. "So what do I do?"

"You think I have the answers?" Skye said derisively. "Look, if you want insight, talk to Apollo. Maybe he can soothe the fop with some pillow talk." She laughed at the look on his face. "Of course, you don't know, you've been here the whole time. Yeah, they're banging."

"Detective Skye," Miles said, unable to restrain his distaste. "That's a vile accusation."

"Whatever," Skye said. "It's still true. Might be messy when Gavin gets bored. It's a pity really. I like Apollo, but I can't say I approve of his taste in men."

"Wright will kill me if anything happens with those two," Miles said, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Mr Wright knows?" Skye said in surprise. "How?"

"Wright's always had a nose for these things," Miles said. _Except when it comes to you,_ his brain supplied helpfully. He ignored it. "He gave Gavin the 'don't hurt my kid' speech a few days ago." He frowned at the memory. "Although, he seemed to think that Gavin was the one whose heart was at risk, not Justice."

Skye's eyebrows soared. "Really?" she said, pulling a bag of Snackoos out of her pocket. "That _is_ interesting."

* * *

Apollo yelped as Klavier strode angrily past him and headed for the parking lot. "Hey! Klavier!" The blond didn't stop and after a bitten off curse, Apollo ran after him, leaving a surprised Blackquill in his wake. "Klavier, wait!"

"What?" Klavier snapped, turning suddenly. His face was black and scowling, giving Blackquill's customary look a run for its money.

"Where are you going?" Apollo said breathlessly. "What's going on?"

"That… hurensohn… He did it, Apollo. He was the one who moved my brother's execution date!"

"Who? Mr Edgeworth?" Apollo exclaimed. "Why?"

"Mein bruder requested it, so that I couldn't attend. Because it was one last way to screw with me. Verdammt, Apollo. I needed closure. Edgeworth and Kristoph conspired to make sure I didn't get it. So, I'm done. I'm quitting."

Apollo stared at him for a long time. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Klavier admitted. "Maybe I should go back to music. My agent's been talking about a solo career. I thought I was done with performing, I wanted to go back to the law. But maybe this is the universe sending me a message."

"You have to do what's right for you, of course," Apollo said carefully. "But aren't you being a little… hasty?"

"Perhaps," Klavier said with a pained smile. "But it's done. I'm going to the office now, I need to meet with von Karma and do some paperwork. I'll see you later?"

"Yeah," Apollo said. "Sure." He watched Klavier walk away with a sinking feeling. They'd barely even started and now he felt like Klavier was slipping away from him.

* * *

Lordly Tailor was bustling with customers looking for Labor Day bargains. Even though the holiday was more than two weeks away. Apollo wondered viciously if one day stores would just run year round 'sales' and not bother with the holiday pretense at all. Ema elbowed him pointedly.

"Objection!" he cried. "Your elbows are sharp!"

"Stop daydreaming then," she told him. "What's the matter with you?"

Apollo shook his head. He did not want to get into his fears about his relationship with Klavier right now. "I'm fine."

"Sure you are," Ema drawled. "OK. Let's find the customer service desk."  
The young woman at the desk wore an elegant name badge that said "Satomi".

"Hi uh, Satomi," Apollo said. Oh he was so smooth! Ugh. "We uh, need to speak with Adrian Andrews?"

"Do you have an appointment?" Satomi asked, tapping at her computer.

"No," Apollo admitted. "That is, uh, no. Do we need one?"

"Well, it is standard practice," the woman told him. "The PR office is very busy with the Labor Day promotions."

"I'm Detective Ema Skye, Criminal Affairs," Ema said, barging in. "My associates and I need to talk to Andrews about a possible connection to a murder."

"A murder!" Satomi said, her hand flying to her throat. "Oh! Let me buzz you through straight away. Oh my!" She pressed a button on an intercom panel and listened for a reply. "Leo?"

"What is it?"

"A Detective Skye to see Adrian about a murder!"

"A murder? Not again! OK, send them through."

"If you'd just walk through that door there," she said, pointing to a red door behind her. "Leo will take care of you."

Leo turned out to be a very attractive young man with a shock of navy blue hair and a knowing look on his face. He eyed Apollo up and down with blatant interest and Apollo flushed.

"Well," Leo said. "Adrian's expecting you. Come with me." He led them through to a large, well appointed office. In an oversized leather office chair, sat a petite woman with mousy brown hair to her shoulders and a pair of glasses perched on her nose.

"Well," she said. "Athena. Apollo. This is… unexpected. And you must be Detective Skye."

"We're here to speak to Adrian Andrews," Ema said impatiently. "Not wade through layers of assistants!"

"Uh oh!" Widget gasped.

The woman assessed her coolly. "I am Adrian Andrews," she said pointedly.

"Oh!" Ema said. "I thought you were a man!" She winced but Andrews did not look offended.

"It wouldn't be the first time," she said.

"But… weren't you engaged to Fr- uh, Prosecutor von Karma?" She could see Apollo's eyes widen and Athena was making some sort of gesture with her hands but for the life of her, Ema couldn't figure out what she was trying to say.

"Yes," Andrews said calmly. "Your point?"

"Well, uh…" Shit! She'd really stepped in it now, and no doubt this woman thought she was some sort of bigot. "I uh… I suppose I didn't know. I guess. Uh."

"What she means to say is, she was unaware of Prosecutor von Karma's orientation," Athena said after flashing an exasperated look at Ema.

"Uh, yeah," Ema agreed. Now she was starting this interview on the back foot. Awesome.

"So, what do you want to talk to me about? Not my love life, surely." Oh she was a cool customer, this one. Ema could see how the two women had been attracted to each other.

"It's a strange case, and your involvement is currently unclear," Ema said. "You're aware of the Silver Diner murders?"

"Of course," Andrews said. "That waitress, she turned out to be the sister of the serial killer, Joe Darke. Whole thing turned on its head. Reminds me of my trial, back in the day."

Although she was burning with curiosity, Ema suppressed it and focused on the matter in hand. "So that waitress, Brandi Darke Snapps, said that she delivered a parcel here to you, from an unknown third party," Ema continued. Andrews looked unconcerned. "Do you remember the incident?"

"No," Andrews said. "I receive many packages every week. You're going to have to be more specific."

"It was two weeks before the Silver Diner killings. We don't know the exact date, Brandi couldn't remember. She's petite, with short reddish-blonde hair."

"And she doesn't know what was in the parcel or who sent it?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss any other details," Ema replied.

"Hold on," Andrews said and pulled up her calendar on her computer. "Oh, now I remember!"

"You do?"

"Yes, this was for a fourth of July promotion. The Return of the Steel Samurai! Global Studios agreed to lend us the official costume. We hired an actor, Antonio Salvatore, to play the Steel Samurai. It was a disaster, the man lied to our face about knowing the character. He bluffed his way through OK, but anyone who was a fan could see right through it. And he insisted on bringing his girlfriend around with him everywhere."

"Do you remember her name?"

"Hmm… Melanie? Melissa? Something like that."

"No last name?" Athena asked, sounding disappointed.

"No, sorry. I really wasn't interested in getting to know her. They were an odd couple, as I remember it. Despite going everywhere together, they weren't… close. Does that make sense?"

"I guess," Athena said. "Anything else you can tell us?"

"Well, Melissa or whatever her name was said she was a kindergarten teacher. And I'm the Queen of England. She was no school teacher. She drove a brand new Mercedes, for one thing. On the salaries we pay teachers? No way. And he's a struggling actor, no money there."

"Do you remember the color?"

"Dark blue," Andrews said confidently.

"What else made you think she wasn't who she said she was?" Apollo asked.

"I'm not sure," Andrews said, closing her eyes as she thought about it. "I guess it was her manner. She was cold, very analytical. More like a scientist or I don't know, a detective."

"Interesting," Ema said. "One more question and we'll get out of your hair. Do you have a photograph of Mr Salvatore? Or his girlfriend?"

"Salvatore, maybe. I think there was one attached to his resume. The girlfriend… I don't know. Probably not. And any security footage will have been wiped by now I would think."

"Pity. Still, even the photo of Mr Salvatore might help." Ema said.

"OK," she buzzed the intercom. "Leo? Can you bring in the Salvatore file from the entertainments and promotions section?"

"Sure."

"So," Athena said after a moment silence as they waited. "How have you been, Adrian?"

"OK, I guess," Andrews said. "I grew out my hair."

"I can see that," Athena said lamely. What on earth was this conversation about, Ema wondered.

"She's back, isn't she?" Andrews said.

"Yes," Athena replied. "Because of the bomb that injured Mr Wright and Mr Edgeworth."

"Oh, yes. I saw that on the news," Adrian said. "Dreadful business. Of course she would come, for him… Did she… mention me at all?"

"I haven't seen her," Athena told her. "She only just arrived."

"Oh, yes. Of course. And why would she… Yes. Well. Ah, Leo!"

The assistant came in with a slender manilla folder. "Will that be all?" he said, his eyes alight with curiosity.

"Yes, Leo," Andrews said firmly and he withdrew. She opened the file and withdrew a photograph of a man with dark brown hair was curiously styled into a peaks at the back of his head and he had a wicked smile.

"There's a face you wouldn't forget in a hurry," Ema remarked.

"Indeed," Athena said. "He's… very unusual looking."

"Oh, he was quite charming in real life, I suppose," Andrews said. "I mean, men don't do much for me personally, but a lot of the women here lost their heads over him."

"Can you describe his girlfriend?"

"Sure. African American. Maybe 5 feet 7 inches. Her hair was always neatly tied back, almost military neat. She was lovely looking, if a bit severe. Carried herself in a military way too. Maybe she was a veteran? I don't know."

"That's a bit vague," Ema complained.

"It was a while ago," Andrews said. "And I was more concerned with him, and his antics, you know?"

"Wait, his antics?" Ema said, her detective senses quivering.

"Oh, he would intersperse his official dialog with odd asides and he refused to tone down his accent even though I was pretty sure it was fake. Or at least exaggerated. He sounded like a bad extra from the Sopranos. _And_ he borrowed the costume one time for a party. Came back with a red wine stain on it! Can you believe it?"

"Are you sure it was red wine?" Ema said sharply.

"Well, no," Andrews said. "I just sent it to the cleaners. They were able to get the mark off, thankfully."

"Did they say it was red wine?" Ema pressed. Andrews raised an eyebrow at her and then rifled through the file. "Here's the receipt."

Ema looked at it. "It's written in Chinese."

"Yes, the cleaning company we use is a family business. And they're from Shanghai, so…"

"I need to know what this says!" Ema interrupted. "Can I borrow this?"

"How about I make you a copy instead," Andrews said, her face wary.

"Fine," Ema agreed. "But make it quick."


	16. Chapter 16

Miles looked terrible, Maya thought. She'd overheard the yelling in the hall, along with most of the hospital. A blow up between the Chief Prosecutor and one of his most trusted deputies. It didn't bode well. Nick would have known how to fix the problem, she had no doubt. And it was clear that Miles was starting to fray along the edges.

"Miles?" she said tentatively, watching with widened eyes as he sat by Nick's bedside and reached out for her friend's hand.

He looked up and gave her a weak smile. "Maya, Pearl. Have you been talking to him?"

"Yes," Maya said in a subdued voice. "I…" Her throat closed as she looked at Nick. Her oldest friend lay silent and she shivered. "Has there been any change since the operation?"

"No," Miles said tiredly. "The doctors seem to think there's no reason to worry yet. But it gets harder and harder by the day."

Maya walked around the bed and laid a hand on Nick's arm. Miles looked away and found himself being scrutinized by Pearl.

"All these years, and not much changes does it?" she said under her breath.

"I don't know what you mean," Miles said stiffly, but he let Pearl draw him away from the room.

"Come on, Mr Miles," Pearl replied. "This ridiculous triangle between the three of you?"

"What triangle?" Miles said, sounding confused.

" _You_ know," Pearl said significantly. Miles shook his head and she made a frustrated noise. "Mystic Maya's in love with Mr Nick. Mr Nick's in love with you. And you… I guess it's not really a triangle, since I don't think you're in love with Mystic Maya. But I don't know what else to call it."

Miles was gaping at her, his face white. "You think… Wright…" Unable to process what Pearl had asserted, his mouth opened and closed like a baffled fish.

"Of course," Pearl said. "It took me a long time to come around to the idea. After all, if Mystic Maya wanted Mr Nick as her special someone, why wouldn't Mr Nick want Mystic Maya?"

"That's hardly a good reason to think Wright wants… someone else," Miles said lamely.

"No," Pearl agreed. "But that was just the start of my thinking on this, not all of it."

"Look, Pearl, you're a sweet kid and maybe you've read one too many novels…" Miles began and Pearl's eyes flashed.

"I may be just a kid," she said defiantly. "But that doesn't make me wrong."

"What does Maya have to say about this wild idea of yours," Miles said desperately.

"She agrees with me, Mr Miles," Pearl told him. "It makes her sad. She held a candle for Mr Nick for a long time. Still does, really. But she knows now that Mr Nick will never look at her. Not as long as you're around." She shook her head. "Actually, not even if you were gone. I don't think Mr Nick ever saw her as anything other than a friend and a sort of little sister."

"This is insane," Miles denied. "I'm sorry, Pearl. But what you're saying makes no sense."

"I knew it would make you cross," Pearl replied. "I'm sorry, Mr Miles. It's hard to be the object of someone's affections when you don't return them."

"How would you know?" Miles said irritably. He kicked himself immediately. Pearl might be misguided but she didn't deserve the hard edge of his temper. But she seemed unconcerned.

"There was a policeman once who worked for Detective Gumshoe who had something of a soft spot for Mystic Maya," Pearl said, her eyes distant. "It was very hard for her. She didn't want to hurt his feelings. It was lucky he got reassigned."

Miles was starting to feel dizzy. A lack of decent food or rest, no doubt. He opened his mouth to speak but Maya had come out of Wright's room and he really didn't want him left alone for a second.

"Maya," he said warmly, casting a warning glance at Pearl. "Were you able to detect anything?"

Maya frowned at him. "I'm a spirit medium, not a psychic," she said lightly. "There's nothing I can do for him. But I have a friend who might be able to help. I'll call her right away. Are you going to insist on staying here?"

"Yes," Miles said firmly.

* * *

The police station was busy, and Ema hurried through, thinking hard. She gasped when she collided with a firm chest and a deep voice laughed at her.

"Detective Cheng!" she said in surprise.

"Ema," Cheng said. "How are you? In a hurry I see."

"Aren't you suspended?" Ema said breathlessly.

"Not any more. Prosecutor von Karma called me in this morning. Said the case against me was, her words, 'a foolish collection of hearsay and circumstantial foolishness'."

"That sounds like her," Ema laughed. "So you're back! That's great, really great. I've missed you."

"Sounds like you've had some excitement while I've been out of the picture."

"Oh, you bet! But listen, I'll fill you in on everything, but running into you is a stroke of luck I really need right now. I need a translation. I've got a dry-cleaning receipt here in Chinese and I need to know what it says."

"Is it really Chinese?" Cheng said.

"Well… the person who wrote it is from Shanghai so… probably?"

"Well, my family are from Hong Kong, so I might have to guess at some of it," Cheng said. "Cantonese is a little different from Mandarin."

"Anything is better than nothing," Ema said. She handed him the photocopy.

"Oh, this isn't too complicated. It's a dry-cleaning bill, you said? This here," he pointed, "it says they removed a bloodstain."

"Blood!" Ema yelped. "I knew it!"

"That was what you wanted to hear?"

"I suspected it, yes," Ema told him.

"You'll have to tell me all about it," Cheng said. "Have dinner with me and Kei-Lin tomorrow night."

"OK," Ema promised. "Now, I really have to go."

* * *

Franziska eyed the figure of Klavier Gavin as he entered her office. She recalled Ema Skye's distaste for the man and found herself silently agreeing as he strutted into the room. But then she noticed how his eyes were shadowed and his face was pale.

"Fraulein von Karma," he said, sketching out a bow. She raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm here to tender my resignation."

"What?" Franziska barked. "You can't quit now, Gavin. We're already two prosecutors down."

"I'm sorry," Gavin said smoothly. "I understand that the timing is bad. But I cannot continue to work under the leadership of Miles Edgeworth."

"What has my little brother done to annoy you so much you'd quit?" Franziska asked, her eyes narrowing.

"It's unimportant," Gavin deflected and yelped as her whip flashed out and cracked by his ear.

"If you're leaving this office in the dire straits it currently finds itself in, I think an explanation is in order," Franziska told him.

He sighed and threw himself into a chair. "He arranged to have mein bruder's execution moved up in secret. It's a betrayal I cannot ignore."

"So I heard," Franziska said.

"Kristoph requested it, probably as a final way of screwing with me. Edgeworth claims his hands were tied, but I don't believe it. He could have found a way to tell me. But he thinks I would have gained no benefit from witnessing Kristoph's… final moments."

"He's right," Franziska told him. Gavin glared at her. "He could not have told you what was happening. Your brother was threatening a civil rights suit. He had a good case. Who knows what the consequences would have been?"

"Once the execution was going ahead, what could Kristoph have done?" Gavin challenged.

"He'd already started filing the suit," Franziska told him. "Martha Bose was his invited witness and she was instructed to complete the filing if you or Mr Justice had managed to get into that observation room."

Gavin stared at her, astonished. "Martha Bose?"

"Yes, your brother's attorney." Franziska said, watching him closely.

"What happened to Frank Orlorn?" Gavin asked.

"Sacked," Franziska told him. "Last year. So, much as I would like to complain about Miles Edgeworth's behavior, I really can't find fault here. And believe me, observing the execution would not have brought the closure you seek."

"Your opinion is noted," Gavin said stiffly.

"It comes from experience," Franziska told him, wagging her finger at him. "Both Miles and I attended my father's execution, you know. It has taken me a very long time to come to terms with the person my father actually was, as opposed to the person he pretended to be. Watching him die did nothing to facilitate that process. It may even have made it worse. He looked so different, at the end. Smaller, less… intimidating. Do you know what his final words to me were?" Gavin shook his head. "'I am so very disappointed in you, Franziska.'"

"Mein Gott," Gavin breathed.

"So you see," she said, ignoring the appalled look on his face, "I know something about closure. And, for the record, he disowned Miles completely. 'You are no son of mine,' he said. I don't think Miles cared much by that point. But it was still a terrible thing to say. If you think denying you the chance to see him one last time was a final act of revenge by your brother, then don't let him win!"

"Stop making sense," Gavin said grumpily. "You're ruining my celebrity-level sulk."

"I do my best," Franziska said with a twinkling smile. "Look, if you want to make Miles Edgeworth's life hell as payback, I'm not going to talk you out of it. But don't quit. You love the law, and you're a fine prosecutor. I'd hate to lose you out of a foolish fit of pique."

"You must be slipping," Gavin said, an unwilling smile forcing it's way onto his face. "You've only managed to call me foolish once."

"I'm cutting down," Franziska told him loftily. "It's bad for my blood pressure."

"You've given me some things to think about," Gavin said after a moment. "I'm not saying I'll stay, but I do need to be sure I'm quitting for the right reasons." He nodded to her and left, with none of the arrogant swagger he'd had before. Franziska looked down at her hand, where she'd been gripping her whip so tightly it had left distinct impressions in her skin. She pursed her lips and tossed the whip onto her desk in irritation, grabbing her phone and tapping out a quick text message. The reply came moments later. She smiled.

* * *

Apollo was sitting alone in a booth at the back of Java Judgement. Athena nudged Simon and the prosecutor scowled.

"He's not here."

"No," Athena agreed. "Do you want to go check the office again?"

"Perhaps," Simon said. "But we should talk to Apollo first." He nodded at the forlorn figure. "He looks bad."

Athena eyed him for a second and then grabbed the attention of the barista and ordered coffee for herself and tea for Simon. She watched as Simon stalked over to Apollo and they began talking. Apollo's body language spoke volumes, his arms folded defensively over his chest and his face was bleak. He shook his head in response to something Simon had said and it obviously irritated the samurai prosecutor as Taka spread her wings and screeched at Apollo. Athena frowned to herself. Simon slammed a fist into the table and she jumped in alarm. What was going on over there?

Apollo spotted Athena and Blackquill as soon as they'd entered the coffee shop, but he had hoped they wouldn't spot him. No such luck, Blackquill was bearing down on him with a determined look on his face.

"Where's Gavin-san?" he demanded.

Apollo folded his arms and glared at him. "I don't know. He had a huge fight with Mr Edgeworth at the hospital and then stormed off."

"What were they fighting about?" Blackquill asked.

Apollo sighed. "Mr Edgeworth was the one who arranged for Kristoph's execution date to be moved up in secret. Klavier's devastated. He feels totally betrayed."

"Edgeworth-dono does nothing without good reason," Blackquill asserted. "If he felt this was the correct course of action, then it was. I have faith in his judgement."

Apollo shook his head. "That's not for you to say. Nobody should have the right to rob Klavier of his last chance to see his brother alive." Taka spread her wings and screamed at him but Apollo was not going to be cowed. "It doesn't matter. Klavier's going to quit. He's going to see von Karma this afternoon."

Blackquill gaped at him and then slammed one hand down on the table. "Quit? He can't quit! We're at breaking point already."

"It's not my decision," Apollo told him. He saw Athena approaching with two steaming cups. "He has to do what's right for him."

"What's that?" Athena asked, placing the cups on the table and a restraining hand on Blackquill's arm.

"Gavin-san is quitting," Blackquill bit out.

Athena paled and clapped her hands to her face. "Oh no! What's he going to do if he's not a prosecutor any more?"

"He's talking about going back to music," Apollo told her thinly. "A solo career."

"You don't seem very happy about that," Athena observed cautiously.

"Me? It's none of my business what he does," Apollo said.

* * *

"Klavier, darling," a voice said from his office door and he looked up to see the sultry figure of Cassandra Silverstein leaning casually against the frame. "I think you owe me an explanation."

Klavier blinked at her in surprise. "For what?" he asked bluntly. She sauntered into the room and, ignoring the chair, perched on the edge of his desk beside him.

"I'm hearing some very strange rumors," she told him. "And then there's this!" She produced a gossip magazine and tossed it down in front of him. The photograph was of him and Apollo, deep in conversation outside the courthouse. Klavier could see how close he was standing, his body leaning forward and Apollo's face was turned up towards him. The headline screamed "Klavier Gavin's Secret Lover!" He snorted.

"Really? You're mad about this? Why?"

"Why?" she said dangerously. "You're supposed to be dating me. How do you think it looks if you throw me over _for a man!_ "

"Cassandra, I think you need to calm down. We are not, and we never have been dating. So, what I do in my private life really isn't your business." He stood up and walked over to the door, giving her a meaningful look.

"Why do you say such things?" Cassandra pouted. "Our romance was the talk of Hollywood for weeks!"

"Cassandra," Klavier grated. "We. Are. Not. Dating. We went to dinner, twice. Once with the director of that dreadful science fiction movie you did, because he wanted me to write the title music and once with your agent who was trying to convince you to do that movie about the rock band that solved crimes, which was based very loosely on the Gavinners."

"I seem to remember you couldn't keep your eyes off me all night," Cassandra said archly.

"You have a very selective memory," Klavier retorted. "If I didn't watch you like a hawk, your hands had a tendency to wander where they weren't invited."

"A real man would be flattered," Cassandra spat. "I was voted World's Sexiest Woman three times in a row!"

Klavier's temper had been straining at the leash but with that remark it caught fire. "Look, Cassandra, I've had enough. We're not a couple, I've no interest in you. I let you pose with me for a few shots by the paparazzi to keep them from sniffing around your real private life, as you asked me to. Because I thought we were friends. But friends don't do shit like this to each other. Go and wail to the press about how badly I've treated you or some nonsense. I really don't care."

"You'll regret this, Klavier," Cassandra snarled. "We had a deal."

"Sue me," Klavier invited and gestured towards the door. 'Now, leave." He was concerned for a moment that she might make a scene. But she just stalked out of the room, her nose in the air. Mein Gott, did he regret the day he'd met her.

* * *

"Well," Franziska said as she entered the room. "You have made a particularly foolish mess this time." Miles looked up at her from his chair, Wright's hand folded into his own. He thought about snatching his hand away but Franziska would have already noticed and doing that would draw even more attention to it.

"I'm not responsible for serial killers and mad bombers," he said tightly.

"No," Franziska agreed. "But upset prosecutors and ridiculous love triangles in the office?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Miles said stiffly.

"Of course you don't," Franziska said mildly. "You're too busy wrapped up in this fool." She waved her whip at Wright. Miles glared at her. "Klavier Gavin came to me to hand in his resignation," she told him.

"I figured he would," Miles groaned.

"Well, I talked him out of it," Franziska added. She graced him with a smile. "You're welcome."

Miles had to smile back. "You're a lifesaver."

"I know," she said lightly. Almost fondly. "Now, tell me about this bomb."

"I don't know anything that isn't in the police report," Miles warned.

"Fool," Franziska said crisply. "You were there. Tell me about it."

Miles sighed and recounted everything he could remember. His voice cracked alarmingly as he described the moment Apollo had come around the corner yelling and then the whiteout of the explosion.

"I see," Franziska said. "Well, we have made some progress." She produced a file from her briefcase and pulled out some photographs. "The bomb was attached to an old cellphone," she explained. "And it had this distinctive, limited edition Steel Samurai strap."

Miles gaped at her. "That's Maya's," he said incredulously. "Or at least, she used to have one like that."

"Is she here?" Franziska asked.

"No, she took Trucy and Pearl home."

"You should consider going home yourself," Franziska said, wrinkling her nose. Miles sighed and she held up a hand to forestall him. "I won't hear any objections. You look like you're about to pass out. Go. I will stay here."

Miles stared at her. He opened his mouth and she glared at him, so he closed it again without speaking. He looked down at Wright. Franziska was probably right. "OK. But call me if there is any change. I'm just going to shower and change my clothes. That's it."

* * *

Ema looked down at her phone. "Dinner tonight?" it said. From Franziska. She'd texted back a yes without even thinking about it. Don't read too much into it, she thought. She just wants to catch up on today's progress and she needs to eat. That's it. Her phone buzzed and she jumped. "Meet me at the hospital." She frowned to herself, why was Franziska there? And then her brow cleared. She was meeting with Mr Edgeworth, of course. She texted back a quick reply and then shoved back from her desk and headed for the elevator.

There was a man in the lobby who caught her eye immediately. Robbie, the desk sergeant, was nowhere to be seen.

"Can I help you?" Ema asked, flashing her badge. The man was medium-height, stockily built and with heavy features.

"I look for Detective Goodman," he said in heavily accented English. Russian?

"I'm sorry," Ema told him. "Detective Goodman passed away, many years ago."

"Yes, yes," the man said impatiently. "I know that. I need grave."

Ema narrowed her eyes at him. "Look, I don't know where he was interred. I was a kid when it happened. I don't even know if he was buried in LA, his family were originally from New Orleans."

The man looked alarmed. "He was only one," he said urgently, like that should mean something. "Only one who knew. Except me."

"I don't understand," Ema told him. "What did he know?"

The man shook his head. "Evil. D'yavol." He waved his hands. "How you say? Lucifer."

Ema blinked at him and began to back away towards the desk. Great, this guy was a nutjob. "OK, look, let me just…"

"Nyet," the man said. "I go." He turned and left and Ema just stood there, shaking. What the Hell had that been about? She turned her head to see Robbie lying unconscious on the floor. He'd been struck on the head and blood was pooled on the floor. She hit the alarm button and began to check his breathing.

* * *

Franziska looked up as a harried looking Ema Skye burst into Wright's room. "Oh, God, Franziska!"

"What is it?" she snapped. "Calm down, Ema. Breathe. Just breathe." The young detective obeyed and after a moment seemed to regain her composure. "Now, tell me what has happened."

"Someone attacked Robbie Wu. And there was this weird Russian guy talking about Satan and I don't know if he was the one who bashed Robbie over the head. I don't know if he's going to survive."

"I see," Franziska said crisply. "Is Officer Wu here?"

"Yes," Ema confirmed. "They've got him in intensive care."

"Good. And his family?"

"On their way." Ema closed her eyes for a moment.

"Excellent. He is in good hands. Now, the Russian. Tell me about him."

"Uh, 5 feet 8 or 9, maybe 200 pounds. Real neanderthal looking dude, you know, with one of those heavy brows that makes them look like they're glaring all the time."

"And you're sure he was Russian?"

Ema shook his head. "No. I mean, he used two foreign words. One was 'nyet' which I know from TV is Russian for no. The other, d'yavol, I'd never heard before but it sounds kinda like the word devil."

Franziska slipped her fingers under the slender golden chain around her neck and twisted it, her face deep in thought. "What did he say to you? I need to hear everything."

Ema recited the conversation as well as she could remember it.

"Goodman," Franziska muttered. "Why does that case keep coming up?"

"You think it's a link?"

"Perhaps." Franziska gave her an appraising look. "I think it's time we interviewed Damon Gant."

Ema stepped backwards, a chill running through her. Her hands cramped. "He's still alive?"

"Yes. Governor Willis commuted his death sentence to life with no possibility of parole." Franziska looked pained. "It would have been after you went to Europe to attend school."

Ema nodded carefully, feeling as though any sudden moves might cause her to fly apart.

"I'm sorry," Franziska continued. "Of course you don't want to interview him. I apologize, that was insensitive of me."

"No," Ema said. "Maybe I should see him. Maybe I can finally put this awful case behind me."

She looked over at Wright. "Where is Mr Edgeworth?"

"I sent him home for a shower and a change of clothes. I hoped he might get some sleep too." Franziska told her.

"No such luck," Ema said, spotting his magenta-clad figure stalking down the hall. "Here he comes now."


	17. Chapter 17

The limousine that swept up alongside Apollo as he walked back to his bicycle was black and even the windows were blacked out. One window slid down silently and a woman's face appeared. Apollo blinked in recognition.

"Ms Bose," he said formally, wondering what a defense attorney was doing riding around like a superstar.

"Mr Justice," she said with a smile that showed a lot of teeth. Apollo shivered, unnerved. "Get in."

"I'm fine, thank you," he deflected.

"It was not a request," Martha Bose said severely. "You and I have something to discuss."

"I can't imagine what," Apollo said politely.

"Please, Mr Justice. Just hear me out." The driver got out and Apollo gulped at the size of the man. He walked around the car and opened the door. Martha beckoned with one finger. "Please don't make Dolph angry, Mr Justice."

Fuck. Apollo gave the giant man one last glance and then climbed into the car. He saw the driver loading his bicycle into the trunk.

As soon as his eyes adjusted to the light, he realized that Ms Bose was not alone. Sat on the other side of the car, her face cold, was the star of stage and screen, Cassandra Silverstein. She was lovely, her blond hair curled artfully to frame her face. She reminded Apollo of those old time stars of the Golden Years of Hollywood, right down to the beauty spot painted on her left cheek.

"Uh," Apollo said intelligently.

"Ms Silverstein is a client of mine," Martha Bose said smoothly. "We have a proposition for you."

Apollo stared at her. "What kind of proposition?"

"We know that you've been spending time with Mr Klavier Gavin," Bose said. She waved a gossip magazine at him, the screaming headline making him squirm.

"What business is that of yours?" Apollo challenged.

"Mr Justice, please," Bose admonished and a worm of dislike curled inside him. "Ms Silverstein has been conducting a long-standing and quite public relationship with Mr Gavin for nearly two years. I'm sure you can't have been unaware."

"Yeah," Apollo admitted. "At least, that was the rumor." But Klavier had told him it wasn't true and he believed him. "Wasn't Ms Silverstein also supposed to be dating that guy who was accused of murdering his maid?"

Silverstein's mouth tightened. "Julian and I are… friends, yes."

"Cassandra," Bose said warningly. The starlet shut up. "Mr Justice, I'm sure you don't want to be caught up in some tawdry Hollywood gossip. Your friendship with Mr Gavin, your shared past, I understand. And your loyalty is impressive. But this kind of thing will only get worse. And who wants to hire a lawyer who's sleeping around with rockstars and the like?" Apollo saw Silverstein bristle at Bose's words but she stayed silent.

"Ms Bose," Apollo said icily. "My personal life is exactly that, personal. Who my friends are, who I choose to spend time with is irrelevant to my skill as an attorney."

"Are you denying that you're in a sexual relationship with Mr Gavin?" Bose said, her eyebrows raised.

"I'm saying it's none of your damn business! Or anyone else's. The press can print whatever crap they want, I can't stop them. I'm not going to be told what to do by those vultures. Or by you."

Bose made a quelling gesture. "Mr Justice, I'm afraid we've gotten off on the wrong foot. Ms Silverstein and I are not trying to interfere in your personal life." Apollo snorted in derision but stayed silent. "We're just trying to warn you. I've been given some information that could severely impact your career. You haven't had the most stellar start, apprenticed to the murderous Kristoph Gavin, palling around with his brother, the rockstar prosecutor." Silverstein opened her mouth to object, her face outraged and Bose glared at her. Apollo supposed he should be impressed that anyone could get the notoriously difficult actress to back down. But right now he didn't know what was going on and if he was honest, he was scared.

"Are you threatening me?" he asked in a low voice.

"No," Bose said, her composure unruffled. "Don't be ridiculous. But don't come crying to me when Klavier Gavin is indicted and your career is destroyed as a result."

"Why would Klavier be indicted?" Apollo demanded. "He's the most honest, upstanding prosecutor in LA!"

"Is he really?" Bose said slyly. "Is that why his brother was able to escape justice for so many years? And then there's the curious shenanigans around Kristoph's execution."

Apollo paled. "What do you know about that?"  
"Ah, so you're aware of that at least. I'm told that Klavier asked for the execution date to be moved up by a couple of days."

"What? No!" Apollo cried. Hadn't Bose been Kristoph's lawyer? What the Hell was she talking about?

"I'm sorry, Apollo. It can't be easy, finding out that one Gavin is as corrupt as the other," Bose said sympathetically. It felt plastic, well-practiced but not real.

"You're wrong," Apollo said firmly, his mind made up. "Kristoph requested the date change himself. The papers are a matter of public record. You're wrong."

"Afraid not," Bose said, handing him a manila folder. Inside were photocopies of the official execution order and the amendment signed by Governor Kaling. And the form requesting the date change, signed by Miles Edgeworth and Klavier Gavin. Apollo's head began to swim. The form listed the reason for changing the date as 'extreme public interest in the case and the Prosecutor's Office's desire to have it proceed without the protests that marred the execution of Daryan Crescend'. He couldn't deny that it looked like Klavier's distinctive looping signature, but Apollo didn't believe it for one moment.

"This has to be some kind of forgery," he said defiantly. "No way would Klavier sign something like this. You should have seen how shocked and upset he was when we were informed that Kristoph was dead."

"Klavier Gavin is an incredible actor," Silverstein said suddenly. "He really should have gone into the movies after the Gavinners disbanded, not the law."

Apollo shook his head. "No. No way. You weren't there. You didn't see him."

"Mr Justice, the LA Times story hits the newsstands tomorrow morning. I've seen the article and let me tell you, the journalist is no hack. He's done his homework and it's brutal." Bose had plastered on her fake sympathetic smile again.  
"What are you saying?" Apollo stammered.

"That Klavier Gavin was a party to all of his brother's crimes, that he aided and abetted his brother in the murder of Shadi Smith and then threw him to the wolves when the evidence stacked up against him. And when I threatened to take the State of California to court over the unconstitutional treatment of Kristoph Gavin, your precious Klavier and the Chief Prosecutor colluded with the Governor to have the execution rescheduled without informing me, his attorney, so that I was unable to file a motion to stay."

"That's crap!" Apollo snapped. "You were a witness to the execution! You were there!"

"Since you were not there, Mr Justice, how can you possibly know who was?"

Apollo started. She was right. Franziska had told Klavier and Klavier had passed it on to him. But Franziska must have been told by someone else, since she was still in Germany when the execution had been carried out. He gulped. What the Hell was going on? It felt like a steel trap was closing on him and his friends. He wasn't just scared now, he was terrified.

"What do you want?" he managed.

"It's simple," Bose said. "Help us bring Klavier down. We don't have enough evidence to have him brought up on charges yet. Help us get the evidence we need, and we'll make sure you're immune from prosecution."

Apollo just stared at her. He didn't believe any of this. It was all lies and innuendo. They had no case. But they wanted him to help them make one. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to agree to their demands but if he said no, would he make it out of this car alive?

"Do I have a choice?" he said bitterly.

"Of course," Bose said calmly. "We're not monsters. Say the word and the conversation is over. Of course, we can't let you go back to Klavier and tell him what's going on. He could leave the country and our chance to prosecute him would slip through our fingers. So we'd have to arrange some kind of… protective custody for you. Just for a while."

Apollo didn't know if she was telling the truth or not. Maybe they would just imprison him for a while and then set him free once they'd managed to trump up some charges against Klavier. Or maybe they'd give him a pair of concrete shoes and toss him off the Vincent Thomas Bridge.

"All right," Apollo said heavily. "Tell me what you want me to do." Apollo Justice, Ace Attorney and now, double agent. Oh shit. He was screwed.

* * *

"I have a bad feeling about this," Simon said, unbidden. Athena looked up from the file she was studying to see him staring at the whiteboard in consternation.

"What do you mean?" Athena asked. Simon turned to look at her and she gulped. His eyes were fierce and his lips curled back in a snarl.

"All of these cases, all of this evidence. And yet, what do we really have? One confirmed killer, a ditzy waitress seeking revenge for the execution of her murderous brother. No suspects in the Hawthorne case. No leads on Redd White in the May case. Few leads on Salvatore in the Powers killing. And the threads that tie all the cases together? Gossamer."

"Are you saying you don't think the cases are linked after all?" Athena asked. Widget pulsed unhappily against her throat but unusually, stayed silent. "Franziska is skeptical, after all."

"I think we're being manipulated," Simon said softly. "This isn't someone who thinks these people escaped justice. It's too… personal. This is revenge against someone who feels wronged. But not just that. Whoever's doing this, wants us distracted and confused. It's a smokescreen."

"All right," Athena said, considering the idea. "Let's say it is. What are they trying to conceal?"

"What?"

"Well, a smokescreen is meant to stop you seeing something. You're saying these murders are to prevent us noticing something else, a different crime perhaps. What crime could anyone possibly want to cover up, that they'd resort to murder as a _distraction_? That's huge!"

"I don't know," Simon admitted in frustration. "But it keeps nagging at me. The mastermind behind all of these murders doesn't care about any of these people. But running from one thing to another has stopped us considering what this person actually wants."

"Well, we're the psychology experts," Athena said brightly. "I'm sure we can figure it out. Let's start simple. All the killings, the shooting and the bombing, were distractions. But the victims were chosen carefully. Every single one is related to one of Mr Wright and Mr Edgeworth's early cases. So we've been focusing on one of them as the real target. But what if that too is a distraction?"

Simon's eyes widened, his face horrified. "That's it, Athena! I always said you were smarter than I am!"

"Well, I don't know about that," she said, blushing. "And what am I so smart about?"

"You're right, we've been going about this all wrong. We assumed that the distractions were in the stupid details, the ridiculous lengths the killer went to get costumes and props, the tying together of old loose ends. But we assumed that the killer's target was either Wright-san or Edgeworth-dono. What if it's someone else?"

"Who?" Athena asked. "You?"

"No," Simon denied. "I doubt any of my enemies have this kind of subtlety. No, I think this is about Gavin-san."

"Klavier? Why?"

"You won't remember it, but when the case against his brother went down there were… whispers. After all what kind of person puts his best friend and then his brother on death row?"

"He was doing his job!" Athena said loyally.

Simon gave her a twisted smile. "Indeed. And I am not saying I believe any of it. Gavin-san is the most upright, honest prosecutor I've ever met. And it's not like he could have recused himself, since he had no idea the route the cases would take when they started. Judges look very dimly on requests to change prosecutor mid-hearing, unless the person is actually incapacitated. In fact, I've only ever heard of it being granted once in the last twenty years."

"What case was that?"

"Damon Gant's appeal hearing," Simon said. He looked thoughtful. "Edgeworth-dono should have prosecuted but of course he'd disappeared off to Europe making everyone think he had committed suicide. Foolishness."  
"You sound like von Karma," Athena said with a chuckle.

"Hmm. Well, when Edgeworth-dono wasn't available, Payne was drafted in. It should have been straightforward. Gant's appeal was not complex, he simply claimed that the evidence presented in court was illegal and therefore should not have been used in a trial. It was strange. Payne had spent the morning laying out the prosecution's case as to why the evidence was legitimate. Wright-san gave evidence, as did Skye-san." Athena noticed that Simon avoided using honorifics for Winston Payne. She frowned, was it just dislike?

"So Payne dropped out?"

"Yes. After the lunchtime recess, he approached the bench and requested that another prosecutor be assigned. I have no idea what he told the judge, but the request was granted."

"Who stepped in?" Athena asked.

"Who do you think?" Simon said wryly. "I did."

"Oh! Wait, what?"

"It was my first appeal hearing. I was subbing for Payne and… he'd been unusually highly strung, even for him, all day. So I figured he'd just lost his nerve." Simon shrugged. "We're getting off course."

"OK, so let's say Klavier is the real target. Who is it? And why are they targeting him?"

"Perhaps if we can figure out the why, the who will be obvious." Taka squawked and Simon looked at her. "I think Taka thinks it's the other way around."

"We should talk to him," Athena said. "Find out who his enemies are."

* * *

It was bright. Too bright and there were odd beeping sounds. Phoenix tried to move and a shrieking alarm split through the air, making him wince. It was silenced after a moment.

"Try not to wriggle so much Wright," a tired voice said. Phoenix tried to open his eyes but they were so heavy. He could feel a hand on his and he squeezed at it, trying to communicate. There was a gasp and the hand disappeared. Phoenix frowned to himself. That wasn't the effect he'd intended.

"Mr Wright?" A new voice said. Female. Phoenix didn't recognize it. He ignored it and flexed his fingers, hoping the hand would return. After a moment, he felt the tentative touch of fingers again and he smiled.

"He's smiling," the first voice said. Male. Familiar. But the name escaped him.

"I think he's trying to wake up," the female voice said. "Talk to him."

"Uh," the male voice said. "Wright? It's Edgeworth. Miles. Uh."

"My God," the female voice said sarcastically. "I thought you were a hotshot prosecutor." There was a cough.

"Wright," the voice said again. "It's Miles. Can you hear me?"

"Yes," Phoenix slurred. "Hi, Miles." He squeezed the hand again and got a returning squeeze as a reward.

"Do you know where you are?" the female voice prompted.

"Bed," Phoenix said softly. "In bed. With Miles." There was a feminine snort of amusement, quickly suppressed.

"You're in the hospital," the male voice, Miles, said. "Can you remember what happened?"

"Hospital?" Phoenix said and opened his eyes. "Did I fall off another bridge?"

* * *

There were tests. So many tests. But finally the doctor declared that Phoenix needed to rest and they left him alone after that. Miles was still there. There still seemed to be some significant holes in his memory.

"Have you been here the whole time?" Phoenix asked. Miles gave a self-deprecating shrug.

"Not all the time. Trucy comes by everyday. Athena and Apollo stop by as often as they can. Others, from the prosecutor's office and other defence attorneys you know. Maya and Pearl came down from Kurain."

"Miles?" Phoenix stared at his friend. "How long have I been here?" There was a glimmer of tears in Miles' eyes and Phoenix began to feel dizzy.

"Two weeks. You've been in a coma for two weeks."

Phoenix stared at him. "Two weeks… I've lost two whole weeks?" His head began to swim. "Oh God, Miles."

"It's OK, Wright," Miles assured him. "Try not to panic."

"Try not to panic?" Phoenix squeaked. "What happened to me, Miles?" Miles reached out and grabbed his hand and as soon as he felt that contact, Phoenix felt himself begin to calm.

"There was a bomb, under my rental car."

"I remember," Phoenix breathed. "Apollo was yelling about the car. You opened the door and then… nothing. How come you're not injured?"

"I was injured," Miles explained. "I had a concussion, and a broken bone in my foot. And my arm was so badly bruised I thought I'd broken that too." He began moving his hand away and Phoenix felt the panic begin to return, he flexed his fingers weakly. Miles grasped his hand tighter again.

"Miles," Phoenix said with relief. He felt oddly emotionally dependent, like a child.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Wright. You've got a difficult road ahead of you. You're going to have to be patient."

"What, for the first time in my life?" Phoenix joked and Miles gave him a broad smile. It made him feel warm inside.

"I'll be there, every step of the way," the prosecutor promised. "Now, I'm going to go call Trucy and let her know you're allowed to have visitors."

* * *

Apollo stumbled into the temporary offices of the Wright Anything Agency and collapsed into a chair, breathing heavily.

"Forehead, are you all right?" Klavier's voice floated through the darkness and Apollo yelped in surprise.

"Klavier? What are you doing sitting in here in the dark?"

"The view," Klavier said, waving a hand towards the window. He switched on the lamp on Mr Wright's desk. "I needed somewhere to sit and think, where nobody would think to come looking for me."

"OK," Apollo said uncertainly. "Do you want to talk?"

"Nein, not really. Prosecutor von Karma is right. I'm behaving like a child. That's all very well in a rock sensation, but not very attractive in a prosecutor."

"I think you've a perfect right to be upset," Apollo said loyally. He eyed Klaver for a moment, unsure if revealing his unsettling experience with Bose and Silverstein was a good idea.

"What is it, Apollo?" Klavier asked, sounding amused. "You seem on edge."  
"Uh, something strange happened to me," Apollo told him. "I met Martha Bose on the street."

"Oh?" Klavier said warily. "What did she want?"

"She was in this big limo with Cassandra Silverstein," Apollo explained and frowned when Klavier's face became stormy. "I guess Ms Bose is her lawyer." Klavier's mouth tightened but he said nothing. Apollo told him the rest of the tale, pausing only briefly to look at his expression from time to time.

"So, long story short, they're accusing you of being the one who rearranged Kristoph's execution date. They're claiming you did it to prevent Bose from filing for clemency." Apollo summarized. Klavier's face was bone-white. "And they're saying there's all these other corrupt things you've done, including helping your brother cover up his crimes. Bose is coming after you, Klavier. She wants to take you down. And she wants me to help them. Threatened to destroy my career and maybe even my life."

"What did you say?" Klavier asked tightly.

"I said yes, of course," Apollo told him. "What else could I do? They had a driver who could probably punch through brick walls. I figured I could string them along for a while."

"Apollo," Klavier said, his voice distraught. "You don't believe them, do you?"

"No!" Apollo snapped. "Don't be ridiculous. But I'm not an idiot. I wasn't going to give them a reason to do something to me when I was riding around in their car. What's the story here? Why is Ms Silverstein coming after you like this?"

"You think this is about her?" Klavier asked. "I'm not so sure. I've known Cassandra for a few years. We were friends, or so I thought. When she was going through a difficult time with the press, she asked me to pretend we were dating to get the paparazzi off her back. She didn't want them to find out about the abortion she had after she broke up with Derrick de Viance so she thought a semi-scandalous liaison with me would put them off her scent. It worked." Klavier shrugged, a ripple of movement that made Apollo's eyes cross. "But since that horrid tabloid journalist published those dreadful articles about us, Cassandra got upset. Seems to think it casts her in a bad light that I threw her over for a man. The fact we weren't actually dating seems to have escaped her notice. So she's petty and vindictive and lashing out. It will pass."  
"Maybe," Apollo said dubiously. "I don't know, Klavier. Maybe you're right about her. But Martha Bose is a fucking shark." Klavier lifted one perfect eyebrow at the vehemence in his tone. "You don't understand, she did everything she could to make me feel threatened. She's not playing around here."

Klavier leaned back on the chair and it tilted alarmingly. "You're really worried," he observed.  
"Yes, dammit! All this crap about your brother's execution and your supposed corrupt dealings, it all hits the newstands tomorrow! Bose actually showed me documents that have your signature on them, requesting the date change!"

"Forgeries," Klavier said dismissively.

"Of course," Apollo agreed. "But they were damn good ones. I've known you a long time and I couldn't tell it wasn't your signature. They were very convincing." He sighed heavily and Klavier tugged him close, spreading his legs and bringing Apollo's body flush against him. "Klavier, is there some reason Bose might have a vendetta against you?"

"I don't think so," Klavier said, his mouth turned down in thought. "I've never faced off against her in court. I think I might have prosecuted a couple of her mother's clients, a long time ago. But I doubt she holds a grudge. Martha Bose Sr is a sharp operator, but she isn't crazy. She understands how the system works."

Apollo leaned forward and placed a light kiss on Klavier's lips. "I'm frightened," he admitted. "She scares the Hell out of me."

"Hmm," Klavier said. "How about I comfort you for a while, ja?"


End file.
